The Life and Times of the McClouds and the Rainers
by Gold Ninetails
Summary: Ah, yes, the typical 'before and after SFA' thingy. I promise that this one will be quite unique, sort of. Ever thought that Krystal was a royal? Of course, but ever thought if she's anything else? *Finished... Whew.
1. Request!

Yay! Request time. If you don't wanna do it, then get lost. If you DO want to write a little story that I've set up (because I'm too darned lazy to write), then please follow the plot below. Ah, manipulate, mutilate, cheat, lie, change, or do whatever! Write up, and we'll see how it goes... Oh, don't do the last part, that's my job :)

_Legend of the Golden Staff_

Author: Unkown

Not a perfect place. Not exactly. Rogues invaded the woods, pirates infested the seas, and stupid seabirds who drop droppings everywhere invaded the skies. However, in the mountains and the plains, the quieter, more peaceful people live their lives.

Blacksmiths, tanners, farmers, mages... The list was too long for Cerinia. The most curious of all were the royals. They were never what the seemed to be. The princesses were never what princesses should be, the kings were booming, happy fellows, and the queens were just plain odd. The whole lot of them seemed entirely like commoners.

However, commoner or not, they were humble and kind. For example, the worst crime ever recorded in the Royal Territory would be a naughty little kit trying to steal a chunk of iron ore from the smith. The cub was let go after he endured his punishment (which was having to eat raw squid). Not the perfect place, but not horrid, either. Strange was the best word for it.

Legends were abound on Cerinia, and we shall talk about the most interesting one there is: The legend of the warrior and his golden staff.

It was rumored that the warrior came from the vast depths of space. He apparently crash-landed on Cerinia, his head swelled with a enormous bump. He immediately befriended the princess of Cerinia at the time. The two, whose names were Alkavin McCloud and Hannah Rainer, planned (as both just loved adventure) to recover the ancient weapons from the caves of the north. Weapons three: The Iron Bow, the Silver Sword, and the Golden Staff.

Unfortunately for the two, upon the way back from a successful journey, they were attacked by rogues. With the plentiful magical powers that resided within the three awesome weapons, they were able to fend off the bandits. However, during the battle, Alkavin was seriously wounded. With a whisper of reassurance to his beloved Hannah, Alkavin cast a spell upon himself, and trapped his soul inside the Golden Staff before his heart could stop beating.

Over a hundred years later, the Golden Staff has been passed on to the youngest of the Rainer line, Krystal. With the weapon in hand, she begins a journey of a lifetime, and earns the trust of someone who should be her arch-enemy...


	2. Timeline

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to StarFox, except my works, a cartridge, and a wee disk. EEEARG! It has come to my attention that Ev, another respected writer, had also come up with the idea to make a timeline about StarFox. Even though my timeline is different by hers (or is it his) by 2870 years in the Common Era. I swear on my life that I had the intention of doing this long before she put hers up.

  


Introduction: This timeline (and article) will eventually build into a story, so bear with me. Most of the places and people are based on the two games, but some parts (such as Papetoon) are from the Nintendo Power comic books. The basic year is made up, and people with unknown ages, I made up for them, same with a few unknown surnames. I know the last name for Katt is a little, er, off, but some people call her that. Or was it just a picture I saw somewhere?

  
  
  


Highlights of the Times in Darkness (article from the Cornerian Library, written by Matthew Jacobs)

  


2735 CE: Birth of Peppy Hare on Papetoon.

  


2737 CE: Birth of James McCloud on Papetoon.

  


2738 CE: Birth of Vixy Reinard on Corneria.

  


2768 CE: Deaths of Oliver and Tania McCloud due to a fatal ship bombing. Deaths connected to Titanian terrorists.

  


2770 CE: Wedding of James McCloud and Vixy McCloud.

  


2772 CE: Birth of Falco Lombardi on Zoness.

  


2772 CE: Birth of Katt Monroe on Zoness.

  


2773 CE: Birth of Fox McCloud on Papetoon.

  


2773 CE: Birth of Krystal, Rainer line, on Cerinia.

  


2774 CE: Birth of Slippy Toad on Papetoon.

  


2777 CE: Cerinia explodes. Cause is currently unknown. Two survivors were rumoured to be found around the Lylat, but both disappeared a few months after.

  


2786 CE: Death of Vixy McCloud due to a car bombing. Death connected to Wolf O'Donnell.

  


2786 CE: Death of James McCloud. Death caused by Dr. Andross during a faulty mission to Venom.

  


2786 CE: First Corneria-Venom war begun, shortly after the deaths of the adult McClouds.

  


2790 CE: Formation of the second StarFox mercenary unit, made up of Fox McCloud (first lieutenant), Falco Lombardi (corporal), Peppy Hare (second lieutenant), and Slippy Toad (corporal).

  


2791 CE: Death of Dr. Andross. Death caused by the StarFox team during an assassination mission to Venom.

  


2791 CE: War over: Victory to Corneria.

  


2792 CE: Falco Lombardi disappears.

  


2795 CE: Peppy Hare retires, becomes map maker for the StarFox unit.

  


2796 CE: Slippy Toad retires, becomes mechanic for the StarFox unit.

  


2796 CE: Rob the Robot successfully reprogrammed to pilot the Great Fox.

  


2799 CE, November 19 to December 23: StarFox mercenary unit called to Dinosaur Planet. During mission, Fox McCloud rescues Krystal of Cerinia. Also during mission, Falco Lombardi returns and rejoins the StarFox team.

  


**

  


I read over the timeline a couple of times, and wondered why the rescuing of Dinosaur Planet was included in the highlights of dark times. The timeline also seemed to be a lot more centred on the StarFox team.

  


"Odd," I murmured as I picked up my cup of coffee and took a sip. I immediately spat it out in a fine mist: The coffee had cooled during my reading and tasted like bitter beans blended with rotten eggs and strained through a well-used pantyhose.

  


The librarian gave me a scowl, and I obediently cleaned up the stain of the dark liquid on the white tiled floor. I had to use three tissues to properly clean up the mess.

  


Turning back to the computer, I rapidly clicked a few buttons on my keyboard for the next subject my boss wanted me to find. It was about the system of Sibalt (pronounced seh-ball), and why the main planet had blown up. The radiation shockwave apparently caused a major government satellite to collide with the capitol of Zoness. It took the waves long enough to reach the Lylat; twenty-three years, almost.

  


The long-wave rays apparently disrupted a lot of things, other than that little chunk of flying metal. Space debris from the entire way from the Sibalt System to the Lylat (which was nearly a hundred light years, not that far, if you think about it) were thrown off course. Most of them decided to run through the Cornerian Offensive Army's ships and cut down six destroyers. Amazingly, no one died.

  


Snorting, I rolled by eyes at the results. There was only one article about Cerinia. Not many people travel there, after what had happened over a thousand years ago, or as they say on Cerinia. A deadly plague caught all around the Sibalt System, killing millions before the inhabitants suddenly developed immunities. Many people say that the virus was still on Cerinia, or what's left of it.

  


My frown grew deeper with every word I read in the document. Turns out, it wasn't a document at all. Well, not a full one, actually.

  


**

  


Cerinia (article from the Cornerian Library, written by Tyson Sentry)

  


(Original document's disk burned during the invasion of Corneria by Dr. Andross. Parts of what remain and can be read are rescued as best as they can be.)

  


(Page 27)

  


...the buildings are ones of amazing architect. Whoever designed such...are geniuses. The palaces and the homes of nobles are carved out of magnificent marble and...in such an order that the lines that separate...are hardly visible...

  


(Page 34)

  


...follows by a royal system. There are kings, queens, princesses, and princes. They find dictators among the fairest of peasants when a line runs out, and democratic advisors...elected every two years. Dukes and duchesses govern the smaller details of faraway lands, but in all, the kings and queens hold the most power...

  


(Page 49)

  


...not to be reckoned with. Their armies swear by an oath so complex it would take a person of high IQ to understand all the requirements. The soldiers are all hard-trained and determined. During my time at Cerinia...found that the soldiers train from very early childhood to gain status and rank. The ones that train the hardest and endure the most physical...the Royal Guard. Most are descendants of nobles, willing to prove themselves to the king and...

  


(Page 63, last page in document)

  


...are easy to understand...people, but there is one tradition that they have that does not fit right inside my mind. The female, when time to wed a male, must present their future mates with the three most important teachings...culture. They are: Honour, including rank and reputation; Discipline, including honesty and loyalty; and Strength, including character and physical strength. The female is to present the male with her badges and attire symbolizing rank, her willingness to serve him by completing one task (the male must choose the most difficult one he could think of), and her weapon. If the male accepts, she may have these items back, but if he refuses, the female is...dishonoured and will be stripped of these above items...

**

  


"Odd, indeed," I muttered again, my frown to such a depth that my eyebrows were in danger of merging with my eyes. People who write can be so confusing.

  


I sighed and hit the print button on the computer. A machine buzzed to life nearby as it burnt the words onto the glossed piece of thin plastic. 

  


Being an astronomer wasn't easy.

  


**

  


A/N: Oi, my head hurts, partly because I had to use so much creativity on this one. The math was really easy, though. If you want to do a timeline like this, please make sure not to plagerize me. (I know math is really hard for some of the knuckleheads out there, but at least try. If you can't try, e-mail me if you want to stick this pathetic piece of crud on publicly viewable areas.) The article was a bit more confusing for me, too.

Mmm! By the way, I am fully aware (and any good SF fan should, too) that in the original Dinosaur Planet (it was cancelled) starring Sabre and Krystal, Krystal was orphaned at that age of six, and the game made no reference whatsoever to her planet being blown up, and neither does SFA. Oh, and if you've seen any pictures of Dinosaur Planet, Krystal has no hair (odd) and her loincloth is about five times bigger. I, personally, think that our SFA Krystal is a lot cuter. Bear with me, as of again, because I plan on basing this on SFA. Maybe I'll consider doing one on the original Dinosaur Planet. It shall be interesting, I tell you.

Oh, and the weird burnt disk part: Most disks run on little lines, making it go whir as it goes around and around, making the computer read from something like a record disk. If it was burnt, I'd imagine that only parts of it were burnt, and those specific pages happened to be on the same side of the disk (the unburnt part).


	3. The Little Angel of Death

It's not nice having your home blown into little pieces, and I can imagine how those people felt. - Wolf O'Donnell

  
  


-May 23, 2777, Cerinia

  
  


She wasn't like the others, no, no.

  


She wasn't like Duke Kole's little cubs. They screamed and threw things when they didn't get their way, but she was different from them. Even though those kids could someday grow into kind, caring people, he thought she had already done that, at the age of four.

  


He watched her as she swung her golden staff at the dummy. The glint of the metal blade at the tip had swished around so fast that it made him dizzy. The dummy had so many cuts that he was sure, that if it were alive, it would've bled to death long ago, if not from the broken bones. She was strong, and fast. She would become a great Royal Guard someday. The trouble was that she was already royal.

  


The little kit grunted as she mercilessly stabbed the dummy. The large end of the staff got lodged somewhere in its stomach, but she pulled it out to the side and nearly cut the burlap thing in half. He nearly winced, by he held himself: The flying straw looked oddly like shredded viscera. He was sure that he could reduce someone his size to split bacon in a matter of seconds, and that was saying something. He was twice her height and nearly three times her weight.

  


Her brow was soaked with sweat. Her arms glinted with liquid, clearly visible in the afternoon sun. He involuntarily scowled: Natural foxes, unlike the Cerinians, didn't sweat through their skin, but the Cerinians did. How strange of them, even though he was a noble Cerinian guard himself.

  


The kit stopped, but it wasn't for breath. She dug the sharp point into the dirt and leaned on it.

  


"Why did you frown, mentor?" She asked with the common Cerinian, or British, accent. They spoke plain English, but Royal Guards were supposed to be fluent in tens of foreign languages.

  


"I just thought of a interesting, and ironic, fact. It's nothing, Princess, please continue your brutal slaughter of that dummy," just as he finished saying that, the dummy fell off of its post and crumpled in a heap on the grass. A gust of wind sprang up and blew the strewn contents of its insides away.

  


The princess maintained her hard expression as she picked up the tattered, empty burlap and hung it back on the post. She was just about to take an almighty swing at it when her mentor caught the staff from behind her.

  


"That will be all for today, your highness," he said kindly. She nodded, shrunk the staff, and hid it near the back of her tunic. Her mentor was in loose trousers and an even looser shirt. He had his own sword at his hip, but he rarely drew it, except to prove a point or to skewer a threat to the queen.

  


Her staff was forged of magic, and will contain and channel magic. Every weapon of the Royal Guards were magic, but they were all used for certain things. Her staff was to channel the life force of a planet to make magic, but the mentor's sword or another guard's would have the ability to hone onto an enemy or shoot fireballs.

  


As a future queen, she will need an item that can channel life-breathing power. The mentor had heard about different planets having different ways to contain the living things on its surface. Whatever the matter, may it be a magic volcano or magic spirits, the princess' staff can channel the power. A special person deserved a special weapon.

  


"Is it the day for the mock-marriage?" She asked. The mentor thought for a moment, and nodded. She flinched, her shoulder-length hair waving in the wind. He knew that she didn't like the practices, but they were necessary for a female member of the royal house to do so.

  


"We'd better get it over with, Princess," he said. He didn't really like them, either. It meant for her to marry and divorce him every month. It didn't make much sense, but it was miraculous experience for later on.

  


She kneeled, sitting on her footpaws, and he followed her actions, facing her. He could still see the beads of smelly sweat on her face, but she still had the scent of jasmine, her early morning bath, and nothing else. She breathed in, and began.

  


"I ask for you, Elias Silvers, your hand in marriage. I pledge my life, my will, and my strength to you, in return for your protection, your love, and your trust. I offer you three things: My Honour." She took off her tiara, which had a ruby at the forehead, and placed it on the short grass in front of him. "My Strength." She took out her staff and laid it before him, too. "And my Discipline. You may now request one thing for me to do."

  


"I request for three drops of your blood, given from my own blade," he said. He made up a new request every month. They were slowly getting more painful and more difficult. She bowed as he drew his sword. It had the same markings on the blade as her staff did. She took it from his paws and brought it to her wrist. She slid the blade efficiently along, and it made a cut. She gave the sword back to him, and turned her wrist upside down. Three drops of deep red blood dripped from the cut.

  


"I have completed your request. Now, I request your answer."

  


"I accept your pledge, and I offer my pledge to you. I give your Honour, your Strength and your Discipline back to you."

  


"Then, with the skies and the grass as our witnesses, we are officially husband and wife."

Elias smiled proudly. She was definitely getting good at that. She didn't even sigh or groan. He watched patiently as she put back her tiara and tucked her staff back into her tunic.

  


"Now, I want a divorce."

  


"Oh, my dear Elias, what have I done?" She cried dramatically. He chuckled as she swooned back and fell into the grass. She sobbed, "What have I done to rid myself of your loving touch?"

  


"You're eight years younger than me, that's what!" He laughed along with her. He was indeed twelve years old, the youngest Royal Guard in over fifty years. And with the Rainer line so popular among the folk, it was no surprise that over a hundred nobles became Royal Guards in the past decade.

  


"Well," she huffed, getting up and putting her fists on her hips, "We've been married twelve times now, maybe you should take a lesson from experience! Or are you just too seduced by my charms to see that I'm a mere child?" She fluttered her eyelids at him. He fell back and laughed again. She was definitely pretty and very young, but she was as smart as one of the old advisors.

  


"Someday, you'll make your true husband proud, with your beauty and your brains, what not," he mussed up her hair and she giggled.

  


"Oh, you think so, Elias?" She piped. Suddenly, she blushed and sat up straighter, "Er, I mean, do you really speak that with honesty, Mentor Silvers?"

  


"I speak it from my heart," he replied. She brightened up even more.

  


"Oh, Elias, someday, when I'm older, I'll marry you, and I'll make you proud. Imagine us, two strong Royal Guards, walking down the hall of love and royalty," she sighed and peered up at the cloudless sky. It was his turn to blush. The princess may be smart, but she was still naive.

  


"One more lesson for today, Princess," Elias said, "You must marry for strength and honesty, but you must, most importantly of all, marry for love. You cannot live and mate with someone who you do not love."

  


"But I love you, Elias."

  


"Of course you don't. This is not love, the friendship that we have. Someday, you'll find love, and the feeling will come from your gut, not your head," he frowned. The princess beamed and jumped up onto her feet.

  


"Elias Silver, I am already jealous of your unknown, future wife, for she will have a dog with a heavier brain than his sword."

"What?" Elias exclaimed, "You've held my sword; it's probably heavier than you!" Elias drew his big broadsword and gripped it with his left paw. He swooped down and picked up the princess with the other paw and made a show of making the sword seem heavier. "See?" The princess giggled hysterically against his grip.

  


"ELIAS!"

  


He nearly dropped his sword and the princess at the same time. Luckily, he made a split-second decision and dropped his sword instead of the delicate little vixen.

  


"What's the matter, Nicole?" He shouted back at the vixen. She was on top of the hill, pretty far away from Elias, but she had really big lungs. Elias heard her as if she was shouting in his ear.

  


"IT'S TIME!"

  


"What? Supper isn't until a couple of hours!"

  


"NO! I MEAN THAT IT'S 'TIME'!"

  


"Oh, no," Elias whispered. The princess looked up at him curiously. Elias suddenly gripped the vixen's arm with a powerful paw.

  


"What's wrong, Mentor Silvers?" She asked.

  


"Listen, Princess. The Royal Guard must now do something very dangerous. It can go wrong in so many ways, but the other just don't see the possibility of it messing up. Princess, do you remember the battle armour the blacksmith made just for you?"

  


"You mean the little set of metal? I never thought it was armour," she shrugged, "But, yeah, I remember. It's awfully big, but it's really pretty."

  


"I need you to get it, Princess. I need you to take it, bring your staff and your tiara and your necklace. Go to the teleportation pad. If something goes wrong, I need you to teleport to somewhere, anywhere. Just not on Cerinia, do you understand?"

  


"Yes, Elias."

  


"Good," he sighed and wrung his paws, "Just in case, Princess. This can go wrong, but it probably won't. Just get your stuff. If it works, and you see a pretty flash of green light in the air, then you can come and see me. It'll be very good, but now, you must go to the teleportation pad, and don't forget your stuff."

  


"Okay, Elias," the princess nodded and went off towards the palace.

"One more thing!" Elias shouted at her.

  


"What is it?"

  


"If something does go wrong, and no one is there on your coming-of-age day, you can make the markings yourself. Don't forget the mix: Wormwood and concentrated raspberry dye," Elias waved at her. The princess glanced at the boxy swirls below his shoulders and nodded. She went off to the palace, and Elias went to the ocean, the opposite way.

  


She wasn't sure what Elias meant, but she did as she was told. She took her stuff to the pad and waited, the armour and the necklace on the marble pad marked with runes next to her. The pad was on the highest point of the palace, and she could see the swarming mass of Royal Guard at the seaside. Suddenly, a flash of light flushed up from the ocean. The princess was just about to jump off and find Elias when the white light suddenly turned the colour of blood, and she knew that something went wrong.

  


She was taught to obey orders, and Elias' orders were to get out of there if something went wrong. She desperately wanted to stay and see what happened, but she shook her head and told herself to go. She took out her staff and struck it on the marble pad. A whirl of blue light frothed up from the pad and engulfed the princess and her armour. A moment later, she wasn't on the same planet.

  


Something DID go wrong.

  


**

  


A/N: Yep, the planet is in big trouble, and yes, the little vixen was Krystal. Oy, as if you readers didn't know.


	4. Daredevil

He's crazy. Damn crazy, I tell you. - Bill Grey

  
  


August 12, 2777, Papetoon

  
  


He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Her large ear twitched, but she showed no other signs of noticing him. She ignored his touch and kept folding the plain white bed sheets. He frowned, but he didn't give up that easily.

  


The sun was shining through the open window, and outside, the two foxes could see the light brown dirt around the edges of the dirty road. There were lots of other residential houses, but none were as special as theirs. Their house had a Arwing in the garage, not a car. The car had to wait outside.

  


"You know, I wish you would just leave that dratted ship with the Great Fox over at the hanger. It's not like you fly to HQ and back every day," she said in a strict tone. The dog fox behind her smirked and kissed her neck softly. She sighed, folded back the last ridge, and turned around to meet his green eyes.

  


"What?" He asked.

  


"I hate it when you do that," she grumbled, "It overpowers me."

  


"Hmm, then maybe I should do that whenever you plan on making that awful spinach pie again," he chuckled and pressed his snout on hers. She moaned against his lips, but she allowed him to push her on the freshly-made bed. The wrinkles on the sheets grew bigger and multiplied in number as they mashed their bodies on each other harder.

  


"I thought I heard something."

  


"Ah!" The dog fox was suddenly shoved off the bed by the vixen. He tripped and bumped into the wall. The vixen stood up and tried to ignore the grinning hare. She went back to straightening the sheets, her eyes keeping as far away from the dog and the rabbit as possible.

  


"Peppy! I didn't hear you come in," he huffed. Lieutenant Peppy Hare chuckled and stood up straighter and saluted to the fox. The fox got up and returned the salute.

  


"At ease, lieutenant. I thought I told you before: We're old friends. You don't have to treat me like a general," Captain James McCloud scowled. Peppy raised an eyebrow, and went back to leaning on the doorframe.

  


"Usually, Jimmy, when couples are married for five years, they don't treat each other so mushily as they once did in junior high. But for you two lovebirds, that can be an exception," Peppy's smirk grew wider with every word.

  


"I swear, Pep, someday, I'm going to strangle you alive. I'll enjoy hearing your thyroid snap," James threatened, "Act your age."

  


"I am. You're just sensitive."

  


"... Maybe."

  


"Peppy, since when did you get a key to our house?" Vixy asked, finishing with the sheets and looked up at him.

  


"Fox let me in," he said simply, putting an arm around a little cub behind him. The little fox with brilliant green eyes smirked just like the hare and crossed his little orange arms across his chest. Four years old and as arrogant as a mule. He never sadistically made fun of anyone. He only did it when he felt like the majority would laugh with him, not at the person. Peppy, however, was a different case...

  


"Yeah, I let Peppy in," he lifted his chin and said, "He said he'd give me a can of tuna, but he didn't."

  


"Peppy! Are you bribing my son?" James cried. Peppy nodded as if it were nothing. Fox elbowed him in the calf, and Peppy shoved him away.

  


The hare was wearing his clean metal boots, with his red jumpsuit and his uniform white StarFox jacket. His gray ears were flopping lazily around, and his little black eyes were filled with mischievousness. Little Fox McCloud was wearing a green shirt and a pair of green pants. He also had his bandana around his neck, and he looked like a junior pirate in the making, with his big eyes shining with the same enthusiasm as the rabbit.

  


"I caught Mommy and Daddy kissing!" He giggled. Vixy scoffed and glared at Peppy. The hare shrugged and smiled.

  


"Why don't you go play with William, Fox?" James asked. Fox gave him a weird look.

  


"Oh, you mean Bill!"

  


"Er, yeah, Little Pup Grey."

  


"Ok, Jimmy," Fox teased. James glared at Peppy as well. Fox laughed and ran off.

  


"Oh, James," Peppy said, "Sergeant Pepper wants a complete check of the Great Fox. Colonel Sharp needs a full check of all ships, the army's own, and the neutral and active mercenary teams. I think it's odd, but we should take Pepper's word for it this time. I remember during the last check, you freaked and yelled at Sharp that he needed vital information from every neutral unit just so he could have an attack advantage whenever he wanted."

  


James blushed so hard that it was visible through his orange fur. Vixy shook with laugher, her kit fox ears making a scene bobbing up and down.

  


"Yeah, but Vixy gave me an overdose of coffee that morning," James stuttered. Vixy scoffed again and threw a pillow at him.

  


"Sharp sure didn't think so. I remember he said that 'McCloud really needs some time in a mental institution before he pilots again'," Peppy snorted.

  


"Yeah, I remember that you punched Pigma's snout in for laughing," Vixy giggled, "You broke his nose and he accidentally crushed his own sinuses. I think he was acting pretty well about it. If someone punched YOUR snout in, you'd probably order a torpedo and bomb his house."

  


"No, I'd order in the fleet from Katina and destroy everything in a six-mile radius."

  


"Or that."

  


Suddenly, a puppy burst into the room, panting very hard. He was wearing a dirty shirt and even dirtier shorts. His gray fur was so soaked with dirt that it almost looked brown.

  


"Bill! What's wrong?" James asked.

  


"Um, wait, let me think," Bill rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his paw, "Oh, I don't remember, but it was something important."

  


"Okay, hang around for a while. Maybe you'll remember later," Vixy reassured him. Bill shrugged and smiled, looking up at Peppy. Peppy scowled down at the filthy little mutt.

  


"Take a bath," Peppy said. Bill gave a 'huh' and wiped with dirty paws on Peppy's jacket. Peppy grimaced and drew away, with Bill leaving two brown paw prints on the white cloth. Bill laughed hysterically.

  


"Why don't you take that, you stinky rabbit," he grinned. Peppy looked furious, but he restrained himself and forgot all about it as a high whine of an engine sounded outside.

  


James rushed to the window, and Peppy flicked open his PDA.

  


"Oh, I just remembered: Fox wanted to fly your Arwing, Mr. McCloud."

  


**

  


Fox knew exactly what he was doing. He had seen his dad many times taking off in the ship. He was proud that he remembered to open the garage door first. He pressed a big red button on the pad to the left of the control stick. The Arwing suddenly whined to life, the engine running smoothly beneath the little kit.

  


Fox pushed forward on a lever and the ship started to roll forward. Turning the stick a bit to the left, Fox avoided smashing with the car and turned into the wide street. Dust and gravel flew everywhere as the Arwing lifted off from the ground with three huge rocket boosters, firing searing blue flame toward the ground and pushing the ship toward the skies.

  


He suddenly saw the trees and houses disappear beneath him in a rush, but he paid it no attention. He was perfectly calm, and his tiny paws gripped the stick like a natural. He didn't take off into the atmosphere, but instead, he pushed forward on the stick and sped up as he raced towards the ground.

  


Fox could see his parents, Peppy, and Bill outside the front door, looking up worriedly at him. Bill was looking at the flying ship with awe, Peppy was stunned, and Vixy was yelling at him to get down, but Fox couldn't hear a thing she said.

  


Even though his head barely made it above the canopy line, he could see fine. Fox pulled back on the stick a little and pushed the lever even more. The result was him speeding toward the desert canyons like a blur. Houses and trees went past him so fast that his head spun, but he didn't collide with anything, although he barely missed a hover car on his way to the wide canyon.

  


"Fox!" His father shouted over the radio, "What are you doing?"

  


"I'm fine, Father," Fox said with an unnerving calm. A bout of wrestling was heard as Vixy pried the communicator from James, ending with James falling into a pile of something that sounded oddly like paint cans.

  


"Listen here, young dog," Vixy growled, "You will turn that thing around and come right back home. Do you understand?"

  


"No, Mother. I don't understand. I told you: I'm perfectly safe. Whoops," Fox chuckled as he nearly hit a hoodoo. The desert wasn't very friendly for a guy talking on a cell phone and driving at the same time.

  


Fox was nearly to the canyon; he could see the ridge line of the other side. He dipped the joystick forward and dropped down into the canyon. He whooped and yelled, the exhilarating feeling of the air being pushed out of your lungs by the gravity. Fox narrowed his eyes, as if challenging the river below to make him crash. A hundred feet.

  


"Pull up! Pull up!" Vixy screamed.

  


Seventy feet.

  


"Ai, he's crazy. Damn crazy, I tell you," Bill muttered in the background at the same time.

  


Forty feet. Fox had turned off the boosters, but he was still going faster than he would ever hope to go in a car.

  


"Watch your altitude, Fox," James said with the same indifference to the danger as Fox had.

  


"Gotcha, Dad."

  


Ten feet.

  


Fox suddenly flicked the boosters back on and pulled as hard as he could on the stick. The Arwing jerked suddenly up and Fox could hear a tiny scratch of water on the bottom hull.

  


"Way to go," James exclaimed proudly.

  


"No kidding," Peppy said, watching the whole thing from the camera inside the Arwing. Fox's ear was partly in the way, but that didn't obscure the near-fatal stunt that he pulled.

  


Fox smiled, hearing the water cleave out of the way for the Arwing. The downward fall had completely evacuated his chest of oxygen, and he was panting for breath. The G-Diffuser wasn't working at top, but that was okay. If the G-Diffuser had been operating at top capabilities, Fox wouldn't have been able to boost so fast.

  


"It runs in the family, doesn't it, Captain?" Peppy asked.

  


"The craziness or the piloting?" Vixy mumbled.

  


**

  


A/N: Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have put Bill's quote on top... Ah, well, let's skip nine years into the future, when Andross attacked. Did any of you think that Krystal may have been involved in the killing of James McCloud? Hmm, I didn't think so.


	5. Prisoner of the NeoNazis

She's special. I've never heard of anyone being a royal, a Royal Guard, and a royal seer at the same time. I bet she'll find out soon. - Nicole Earthen

  
  


September 5, 2786, Venom

  
  


It's not bad living in the desert, but it's horrible when you get captured in a prison camp.

  


Krystal scowled at the guard. He was staring for too long at her exposed chest. She would've cut him to pieces, but she didn't have her staff.

  


She saw this coming. Why didn't she avoid the soldiers like she could've? Prophecies can be avoided; there can be a flaw. The only thing dangerous about prophecies is when they offer two or more endings. That, you could not break from. Being a seer had its advantages, Elias had said, but he never said that Krystal was a seer.

  


Being a seer meant certain responsibilities. Being a seer meant that you knew something that other people didn't. You could see what could happen if a farmer didn't plant his crops. You could see what could happen if the riots in the Southern Barony went unchecked. You were able to prevent wars. You were able to save lives. Emotion gets in the way of all that.

  


The visions started coming two years ago, when she hit puberty. She had strange visions, not meaning what they looked like. It was all symbolism. She saw that she would be ensnared by vines when she tried to free a helpless bird from the thorns. She got caught as she was trying to save a group of refugees from a band of Venomian soldiers.

  


Everything went well at first. She had smacked the band unconscious, making sure to disarm them. Krystal had cut the ropes and was running away with the tired people, but there was a sudden pain in her neck, and she fell unconscious herself a second later. The sharp pain turned out to be a tranquillizer dart for larger animals. It was too strong: It knocked her out for half a day.

  


Now, she was lined up, stripped of her common clothes, getting ready to be dusted for disease. The guards were going around, whacking people with sponges filled with a sort of powder. Krystal shifted uncomfortably on the filthy stone floor. The only light came from a little bulb hanging from the bunker's ceiling. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the guard hit her face and abdomen with the sponge. They did the same procedure during World War II, nearly eight hundred years ago.

  


Krystal looked around at the people beside her. They were all sick and old animals, stinky and flea-bitten. They must've been walking around in the desert for weeks after the invasion of Andross' own planet. There weren't many people on Venom, but there were enough helpless prisoners there to make Krystal have bad dreams for the rest of her life.

  


"Stupid girl," the guard muttered. Krystal recognized him: He was the one who she had knocked out first. He smashed his fist across her face and snarled, "You'll get your just deserves soon enough."

  


Krystal didn't stumble at the punch. She glared at the guard and spat blood in his face. He grumbled and brought up his rifle for another injury, but the soldier behind him snatched the gun away and gave him a foul look. The guard shrugged and punched Krystal again in the stomach. She didn't even flinch, much less hold her pale blue belly in pain. With her powdered fur and her hard look, she was a ghost. Ghosts don't feel pain.

  


"Bring them into the shower room," the sergeant ordered, putting a rather strange emphasis on the word 'shower'. The prisoners obediently walked to the large hall. There were showerheads every two metres. Once everyone was inside, the sergeant closed the deadbolt door and sealed it. Krystal noticed that it was the airtight kind. Maybe they were going to let them suffocate in their own breath? No, even with the hundreds of prisoners cramped up in the small hall, there was enough air to last them a day or two, with the high ceiling and all.

  


Wait. The Nazis herded the Jews into the shower rooms, and then they...

  


There was a sudden hiss of gas being let out. Krystal gasped as she saw yellow gas emerging from the showerheads.

  


They were going to be gassed.

  


"Mustard gas?" Krystal asked herself. Mustard gas was expensive, but deadly. It caused the insides of a person's lungs to corrode, killing them by making them choke on their own blood. Nasty death.

  


The crowd started to panic, and people who were closest to the gas were starting to vomit blood through their mouths and noses. Krystal merely took in a deep breath and held it there. The people around her where crying, gagging, screaming, and spitting blood. Those Venomians were hellish demons.

  


Krystal tried to remember the proper spell for neutralizing gas. When she realized that she didn't know one, she nearly panicked, too, but something Elias said suddenly popped up in her mind.

  


"There is always another way out," he had said.

  


The other way out was through the wall.

  


Krystal ran toward the opposite wall from the door. She knocked on it a couple of times, hearing the inside. Her chest was heaving for a breath, but she kept the air from the outside out and the air from the inside in. If she breaths that stuff, she'll be in a terrible agony for thirty minutes before her death.

  


Krystal smiled, satisfied that the wall was quite hollow. She put her palms on the dirty tiles, and unleashed a bit of her inner power. The wall immediately cracked and broke, sharp bits of ceramic squares cutting at her flesh. She gave the wall a bit more of a nudge, and it collapsed with a hole two metres high.

  


Krystal ran out, letting go of her lungs. Running a bit faster so the sneaking gas wouldn't catch up with her, she let in a liter of air. Her spinning head felt infinitely better, but she had more trouble than a cloud of yellow air.

  


"Hey! Who's there?" Someone shouted around the corner. Krystal froze, and ducked into an open door to her left. Footsteps pounded on the stone floor, and the shuffle of a uniform was heard marching into the hall. It stopped dead and backed up a few steps. Krystal shrank into the dark corner behind the door. As the voice let out a terrified scream. He ran off without another word.

  


Krystal let out a sigh and reached around the pitch black room around her. She froze as she felt a warm, tingling sensation crawling up her arm.

  


"My staff!" She whispered. It quivered in reply. Krystal smiled and muttered, "Lucky me. Oh, and there are my clothes... Dastardly pigs..." Krystal quickly slipped on her shirt and pants, which she found a small distance away in the dark room, and got the bundle that contained her armor. Frankly, she was in the storage room, where the Venomians stored all their prisoners' things. A shrill siren came on outside the door and Krystal could see red flashes of angry light.

  


Peeking out of her hiding place, Krystal saw that the alarm was blaring and people were shouting. She held her breath as she noticed the mustard gas creeping around the hall. People were shouting louder, now. People were starting to vomit blood. Krystal needed to get out, but already, her chest was heaving again. Mere magic could not protect her from poisons.

  


"Shut off the pipes!" A soldier shouted frantically. Suddenly, the guards with gas masks who were not coughing out their lungs were rushing to the piping rooms. Satisfied that everything was safe, Krystal bolted for the emergency door. Her oxygen was running out, and with every step she took, a little puff of air was escape from her chest.

  


Almost there, she thought to herself. Her sandaled feet patted on the stone, making the sound ring off the walls. Krystal's eyes were starting to get irritated and dry. The mustard gas was even giving her a headache.

  


Krystal ran up the stairs as fast as she could, shoving guards out of her way. Most of them were already choking to death. The others were just plain dead. Resisting the urge to stop and hurl out her petty dinner, Krystal climbed up the narrow stairwell, slamming open doors and shoving more soldiers out of her way, occasionally hurdling over a dead person or two. The mustard gas was way ahead of her.

  


Suddenly, Krystal saw the bronze door exit to the bunker and she pushed on it as hard as she could. To her utter horror, it was locked shut with large bolts and fastenings. Krystal nearly cried, but a tingling sensation came up from the arm that held her staff. Calming herself and ignoring the spinning of her aching head, she held her staff up, jumped, and slammed it down onto the concrete staircase as hard as she could. The rippling energy cracked the stairs and burst the door open, not to mention making a huge crack in the dirty ceramic wall.

  


"Phew!" Krystal said to herself as she ran out into the freezing plains. The ground was charred and bloody, most likely the place of a hopeless battle to save the villages. The air was thick with smoke, and Krystal's eyes immediately got more irritated. She ignored it and concentrated on the fact that she wasn't about to be killed by a cloud of dumb, yellow gas.

  


Bombs were going off in the distance, and the cold night air was filled with the stench of death. As Krystal walked off to find a jet to get off of the dead planet, she stepped into numerous dead bodies. And every time, it seemed like just as she was looking down, a bomb flashed and the mutilated face was purposely shown to her. Dead animals littered the place, all wearing plain clothing and holding pitifully small guns. Their bodies were filled with laser holes, and some even had their heads or limbs blown off.

  


Krystal tried to ignore it all, and just went on, happy to just breathe air. Happy to just have her tattered gray shirt and pants back on. Happy to be free.

  


Out of nowhere that was visible to her, Krystal heard a petrified scream. Startled, Krystal drew her staff out of instinct and brandished it at the air in front of her. Feeling rather foolish, Krystal started to look around for the origin of the scream.

  


Krystal quickly traced it (after more walking in blood) to another little bunker. Curious and frightened, Krystal smashed down the door and tried to locate whoever was screaming. The bunker was unlit, and Krystal was forced to walk in darkness, groping with her fingers. She felt metal, instead of the dirty tiles. Her hands soon found another door, and she pushed it. It swung easily inward.

  


"Ships!" Krystal cried in relief. Indeed, there were several transport and escort ships, each quite large. A hatch leading in a diagonal way up seemed to be the way out. Excited, Krystal hopped up and down on the spot, giggling hysterically. She stopped suddenly.

  


The screaming had stopped.

  


Turning around slowly, Krystal heard heavy footsteps outside in the hall. Ducking behind the door hatch and pressing her back to the wall, Krystal tried to still her heart as a soldier stepped into the hanger.

  


He was wearing a Venomian uniform, two orange ears poking out of his cap. He looked around the hanger, as if trying to pick out a good ship. Krystal saw that his uniform was bloodstained and wrinkly, and there was a jagged cut on the back of his head. It didn't look natural in his orange fur.

  


Krystal whipped out her staff from behind and lunged the smaller, pointy end at him. He was just able to turn around when the blade entered his ribs. Krystal saw a pair of green eyes, a stripe of white, and a surprised look before a sickening, wet slurp was heard as the staff was plunged into his body.

  


Krystal quickly let go of her staff and took a few steps back. The fox spat out blood, his eyes clouding over with death. Krystal noticed how skinny and pale he was under his fur. The blood that came out wasn't that much at all. He crumpled to his knees, shuddering. The dog looked up into Krystal's eyes.

  


"I have a son," he coughed, not breaking the stare he placed on Krystal, "I'd imagine that he's about your age. I was going home to see him." The fox gasped, shuddering again. "If you ever see him, tell him that I died not in the hands of my captives, but by the spear of a Cerinian vixen. Tell him to be strong. Tell him that I love him." Krystal wondered for a moment how he knew that she was Cerinian. He suddenly grasped Krystal's paw, making her jump. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was quite desperate.

  


"What's your son's name?" Krystal asked. The fox smiled.

  


"Fox," he said. He repeated the name over and over again until Krystal was sure that he was deluded. He suddenly doubled over and vomited more blood. Dropping down to all fours, gasping for breath and trembling, he screamed, "Tell Peppy that James McCloud's body will rot on Venom!"

  


With a final gasp, he fell down and died.

  


**

  


A/N: Hmm. Maybe this fic will be more PG-13 than PG. Oi, whatever.

Well, this chapter was a bit strange and short, but who gives? Now we know that Krystal murdered James, and she got out of Venom. Maybe that's why she gave Fox that weird look when he caught her with the staff... Recognition. Recog. Cog, cog, cog...


	6. Gloom

We should promote him to Ensign, but he's got enough on his mind already. Poor kid. You think he'll take a few days off? - Sergeant Pepper

  
  


December 25, 2786

  
  


"Merry Christmas," Bill smiled, shoving a present wrapped with orange paper into Fox's paws. Fox looked at it, took out a small, cubed package from his pocket, and handed it to Bill. It was happily decorated with bright blue and green paper, but the face on the vulpine's face was far from happy.

  


Bill took it and weighed it in his left paw. It was strangely heavy for its size. Bill had already got five other presents from numerous friends, and Fox's was the last for him to receive. Shaking it curiously, Bill cocked his head to one side and squinted at it.

  


"You actually remembered Christmas?" Bill joked. Fox didn't answer, but he just kept staring out the window with his heartless eyes. Bill sighed and sat on the windowsill in front of his friend. Fox's eyes flashed up for a moment, then back down to the depressingly cold weather outside. Bill knew, even with the decorations and the songs coming over the intercom, the academy was on full alert for an attack from Andross.

  


Bill looked up and down Fox. He was wearing a plain shirt and shorts. Bill himself was wearing a heavy leather jacket and a jumpsuit underneath. Bill was wearing metal boots. Fox was barefoot. Obviously, he didn't go outside to join in the unofficial annual snowball fight.

  


"Miserable day, isn't it?" Fox mumbled.

  


"Fox, it's Christmas. Cheer up, will you?" Bill lightly punched Fox in the shoulder to wake him up, but he only gave Bill a weary look and stared back out the window.

  


Bill knew exactly why Fox was in such a horrible mood. Both his parents will killed during the same month, and a war just started a few weeks later. It was almost too much for Bill to take, either, but it was Christmas, so he thought that he'd just milk out the best of it and then go on.

  


His curiosity growing, Bill looked back at the present that Fox had given him. Knowing Fox for over ten years, Bill would've thought it was a practical joke of some kind. Opening it with the most extreme of cautions, ready to close his eyes at any sign of pepper spray, Bill tore away the wrapping. He gasped at what was inside.

  


It was a gold watch in a velvet case.

  


"Whoa! How much did this cost you, Fox?" Bill asked, blinking a few times, just to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Most people would've thought that the blue flecks in his brown irises would've affected his vision, but it was far from the truth.

"A couple hundred credits. No big deal," Fox mumbled, "You've been saying for years how you wanted a classic-style watch, so I guess I took a hint and bought you one." Bill blinked a few more times and dug a finger in his ear.

  


"Eh?" Bill stuttered. This wasn't the Fox that he knew. The Fox that he was friends with for ten years would jump at the chance to pull a prank. The Fox that he knew didn't give expensive presents, but he gave presents nonetheless. Every Christmas, Fox would hand Bill a wrapped box of dung beetles or an armed can of pepper spray, but he'd always give the real present after Bill went screaming for a few minutes. The real Fox was kind and funny. This Fox was just plain weird.

  


"Tell Clarice that I'm sorry for all the things I've said to her," Fox added, "You go. I don't fell like walking anywhere today."

  


Bill gaped. Fox and Clarice had been at a private joke-filled war for over three years. They'd throw pranks at each other at every single chance they got. It never got too personal, though, and they both knew it was for fun. There was absolutely no reason to apologize to Clarice Raymond the Gray Fox.

  


"Are you feeling okay, Fox?" Bill asked. Fox glared at him.

  


"I'm fine, William. Now, just go tell Clarice that the battles will now cease," Fox waved him off. Bill nearly fell over. No one, absolutely NO ONE, called him William. Any who did so were considered over-reactive gentlemen. Fox was the least one to be expected to be an over-reactive gentleman.

  


Bill just thought it best to back away slowly and find the girl's dorms.

  


**

  


"You're joking."

  


"No, I'm not," Bill said, "He actually told me to tell you that 'the battles will now cease'."

  


"Yeah right," Clarice snorted, folding her brown arms over her chest, which was covered with a pilot's jacket above a white T-shirt. The look that she gave Bill over her snout made him very uncomfortable and vulnerable. She had the palest blue eyes that he'd ever seen. Her ears were gray, but parts of her limbs were brown. Her chest and her throat was white. With all of that, and a menacing glance, she looked like she could crush Bill with her foot right there and then.

  


Her short, dark gray hair bobbed as she rolled her head back and started to walk away, "He just wants my guard down so he could bomb me with dung!"

"I sure hope so. Either that, or he's gone suicidal," Bill sighed.

"Oh, Bill?" Clarice turned back, "Please get out of my room. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed." Bill ran away as fast as he could.

  


"Too much information!" He yelled over his shoulder as he stumbled out into the hall, "AAA! Now I can get the mental picture out of my head!" Not realizing where he was going, Bill hit a wall with a tremendous thud and blacked out, his tongue lolling out of his snout.

  


Clarice gazed after him, blinking a few times.

  


"Boys," she finally muttered, slamming her dorm door.

  


**

  


"Hey," a voice called. It was echoed, as if Bill was hearing it from far away. Bill groaned and opened his eyes. A dreary-looking red fox gazed back with empty eyes. Bill tried to say something, but his tongue felt strangely dry and had the taste of the academy's tiled floors to it. Fox raised and eyebrow, but he didn't smile or laugh.

  


"What did I miss?" Bill managed to rasp. Fox ignored his question.

  


"I thought you died," Fox mumbled miserably. Bill tried to shake his head, but a sharp pain and the throbbing sensation on his head prevented any sudden neck movement. Bill settled for frowning instead. Every one of Fox's relatives were dead, but it was rumoured that Clarice was his orphaned third cousin, not blood related. They all suffered tragic, and for some, quite heroic deaths. Bill, after the news that James was dead, was beginning to wonder if Fox would share the same fate. There was only one way to tell; if either he survives to his seventies, or if he dies a horrid death at the hands of evil.

  


Bill blinked to rid himself of such thoughts. If Clarice was really his cousin, then why didn't she die when her parents were caught in that train crash? She did end up with heavy burns and scars running down her legs, but she's still quite alive. Clarice wouldn't ever wear shorts, though. She'd also freak if anyone asked to see her left shoulder, because that's where she lost a large chunk of skin. It had a tremendous bald spot. Fox loved to pull Clarice's shirt sleeve up to let anyone talking to her see the ugly scar. She'd kick him down the hall for a few hours after, but it was all good fun. Well, for Bill, anyway.

  


The door to the infirmary suddenly burst open, and a giddy-looking gray fox marched into the blindingly white room. She ignored Fox, maybe because she couldn't see his hunched form behind Bill's heap of covers, or maybe she didn't want to talk to him. She never did. She stopped in front of Bill, her smile growing wider, and sat down.

  


"It's all your fault, you know," Bill scowled, "If you wouldn't NOT told me that you were going to go naked..."

  


"Well, then, Billy Grey," she lectured, "Maybe you should keep your mind off of sick images."

Bill opened and closed his mouth a few times, but remained silent. Fox had a strange look on his face. He sat up straighter, and Clarice suddenly noticed him.

  


"Ah! No dung beetles!" Clarice shouted. Fox gave her a questioning glance and the nurse frowned. Clarice took the hint and quieted down.

  


"How would I find dung beetles in the middle of winter?" Fox asked, truly looking amused.

  


"You always have a way," Clarice growled. Fox didn't cringe. He just blinked twice and turned back to Bill.

  


"You saw her naked?"

  


"No," Bill said quickly, "She just told me that she was having a shower and... And I... Er..."

  


"Went nuts and slammed into a wall?" Clarice finished.

  


"Quite."

  


"Colonel Sharp is complaining about a hole in the drywall of the north wing. Coincidentally, you have a large bruise on your snout," Clarice grinned sadistically.

  


"Please don't turn me in!" Bill cried, "He'll skin me alive and cook my liver for dinner!"

  


"Maybe," Clarice drawled, rolling her blue eyes innocently, "Or maybe you could persuade me with a little bribe to keep my snout shut?" Bill froze.

  


"What do you want?" He asked slowly.

  


"Come to the girls' dorm tonight and I'll show you," Clarice said, her eyes glinting with giddy pleasure.

  


**

  


Bill screamed, but the solid door and walls kept his wail of horror quiet to anyone outside. Fox, however, was leaning against the white wall on the other side with his large ear pressed on it, looking quite unsuspicious. Fox could hear Bill thrashing around in Clarice's room.

  


"Please! No more!" Bill cried, his arms and legs bound to the chair, immobilized. Clarice giggled, but kept on painting the hound's toenails. With every stroke of her delicate brush, a smear of red would appear on Bill's toe. And with every stroke, Bill let out a scream of pure terror, for what Clarice was doing to him was the worst nightmare a male teenager could endure.

  


Clarice applied a final stroke and put the brush back on the cap of the tiny glass bottle. Straightening up, she slid a finger from Bill's neck up toward his chin. He trembled.

  


"Relax, Bill, this is all for Fox, remember? It'll make him feel a lot better," Clarice whispered, pecking Bill quickly on his snout. Bill screamed again. Clarice chuckled and said, "Save your breath. I've got you for three more hours."

  


This time, Bill's scream could surely be heard a mile away, and behind the plaster wall, a red fox was grinning for the first time in half a year.

  


**

  


A/N: Aw, poor Bill. I can't imagine what I'd do to get out of his situation. Call in the Navy SEALS? Most likely.


	7. First Kiss

Being special doesn't mean you have to have special abilities. Being special is just being yourself. Never be ashamed of who you are, and never try to hide your identity from others, unless you're being chased by a complete psycho. Then you have to lie to save your hide. - Elias Silvers

  
  


March 2, 2789, Corneria

  
  


"Thank you again for letting me stay here," Krystal bowed. The Arctic Fox teen seemed very surprised. He stuttered and returned the bow quite awkwardly, bumping into a table behind him as he lowed his head. Krystal smiled, amused, and made her way up the carpeted stairs. Krystal felt the boy's eyes on her back. She was wearing her armour, but she didn't really see it as revealing. Krystal wasn't very bothered that all the armour was are shoulder pads, a choker, a bra, two wristbands, and two ankle bands. The boy seemed quite observant, though. Krystal was suddenly glad that she had sewn her loincloth out of her tattered tunic instead of choosing to go around in a rag, but she really wanted something else to wear as well.

  


Krystal walked into the room and set her pack, containing her staff and various other items, down and looked around. The boy was quite generous in giving her a living space. He had said that his parents were away for a while to fight in the war, and that he'd love to have a person over for a few days. Something at the back of Krystal's head told her that he wouldn't have just given the offer to anybody. That room was his parents' bedchamber.

  


"If you need anything, a drink, a hamburger, just give me a holler," the boy said, leaning against the doorframe. Krystal smiled and bowed again. She found that the Lylat System had very strange traditions, like slapping a large chunk of flat meat on two slices of bread and calling it a hamburger, when it was usually beef instead of ham.

  


Thinking about strange traditions made her head wander off to the wedding ceremony practices that she had with Elias. She really did need some more practice, just to make sure that she knew it all.

  


"HEY!" Krystal yelled at the top of her lungs, "I REQUEST SOMETHING!"

  


"Gah!" The boy toppled over and nearly fell off the red staircase, "You don't have to shout! I'm right here."

  


Krystal blinked.

  


"But you said that I should give you a hollering if I needed something."

  


The boy blinked, too.

  


"Are you a foreigner?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Okay, what do you need?" The boy asked. Krystal smiled gratefully and motioned him to kneel. She did so herself.

  


"You will have to promise to divorce me after this," she said. The boy's eyes lit up in surprise.

  


"What? You're gonna marry me?" He asked excitedly.

  


"Um, yes."

  


The dog got even more excited. He leaned over and placed his paws on Krystal's shoulders.

  


"Maybe we could start the honeymoon early, maybe?" He whispered slowly, roaming his hands lower.

  


"In my culture, foxes don't lay with each other until they are married," Krystal frowned, "I believe to do so in your culture would be considered rape, if I do not cooperate, which I will not, until I am properly pledged." The boy's paws flashed off.

  


"Oh."

  


"If you understand, then let us begin. Your name?"

  


"Keith Drake."

  


"I ask for you, Keith, your hand in marriage. I pledge my life, my will, and my strength to you, in return for your protection, your love, and your trust. I offer you three things: My Honour." She took off her tiara and put it on the floor. "My Strength." She took out her staff from her pack put it beside her tiara. "And my Discipline. You may now request one thing for me to do."

  


The boy looked quite surprised, but he got the idea. The glint in his eyes signalled a witty request.

  


"I request from you a French kiss."

  


Krystal raised an eyebrow and nodded. Just because Elias was a Royal Guard, that doesn't mean he was completely dull and boring. He taught Krystal lots of interesting stuff, but he dared not touch her, because in doing so, he would lose his head.

  


Krystal leaned forward, grabbed the fox by his shoulders, and mashed her lips against his, worming her tongue into his mouth. He appeared genuinely surprised, but he went along with it. He was obviously enjoying it a lot more than Krystal was. After quite a long time (the boy refused to let go), Krystal pushed him away, panting and out of breath. The boy was doing likewise, and was grinning a silly smile.

  


"I have completed your request. Now, I request your answer."

  


"I, er, I guess, er, I do?"

  


"Then, with this odd box and this inorganic wall as our witnesses, we are officially husband and wife," Krystal set her jaw and thought, "Oh, and that also makes you King of Cerinia."

  


The boy fell over.

  


"What?" He wheezed, still winded from the kiss. Krystal blinked again.

  


"I'm the Queen of Cerinia. If you are pledged to me, then that makes you King," Krystal said. The boy stared at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing. Krystal frowned; it wasn't meant as a joke, "Now, tell me that you want a divorce." The boy stopped laughing and looked at her as if she were crazy. He was probably in his late teens, and he was rather smart, but he was no king. He was just a silly boy from a silly planet with silly ideas.

  


"Aw," he grumbled, "So it was all a joke?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Damn it," he muttered, "Can we retire to the royal bedchamber for a few minutes before we're divorced?"

  


"No."

  


"Oh, fine."

  


"Say it!"

  


"Okay, okay. I want a divorce."

  


"Divorce granted."

  


"You know, I really like you."

  


"Then make me like you."

  


The boy got another glint in his eyes and he tackled Krystal to the floor. He pressed his snout on hers and, this time, wormed HIS tongue into her mouth. Krystal wasn't repulsed, his mouth tasted like mint, but she still didn't want to get crushed. Suddenly, Krystal started to enjoy his awkward groping of her abdomen and his passionate embrace, and kissed back. It wasn't exactly her idea of romance, but it was funny. Besides, it was only her second kiss, so she thought to make the best of it.

  


Krystal, with all her strength, flipped him onto his back and landed on his chest. She cupped her snout hard on his, and dug her tongue as far as it can go into his mouth. From there, she engaged in a wet and hot wrestling match with his soft tongue, and she ended up pinning it to the floor of his mouth.

  


After a few more seconds of loud moaning and suppressed grunting and panting, Krystal let go of the dog, gasping for breath. The boy looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Smiling, Krystal stepped over his prone form and back into the bedroom.

  


"Like me now?" He asked, breathing heavily. Krystal looked down at him and their eyes met for a moment. He had brilliant blue eyes, and his white and brown spring fur coat was very soft and cuddly. He looked Krystal's age, and he was clever. Clever, but odd.

  


"Um," Krystal smiled, "No."

  


She slammed the door and locked it, leaving him outside, dazed and confused.

  


**

  


A/N: Wow. That turned out to be a lot shorter than I thought it should be. Yes, I should call the World Wrestling Federation and ask if tongue wrestling is a valid game for public television. Ugh, the Rock versus Fat Ass...

  


I know this is cheesy, but if you look on the genre of this story, you'd notice that cheesy romance and cheesy fantasy come first.

  



	8. Keep Screaming, Billy Grey

Some cousin! He won't even date me! - Clarice Raymond

  
  


April 29, 2789, Corneria

  
  


"Okay, just listen up," Clarice growled. Bill cringed in fear, remembering what happened the last time he was tied to a chair with her around. He struggled helplessly against the taunt ropes, but did nothing more than make them tighter and get imprints of the fibre cord on his wrists. Clarice calmed down when she saw the beads of sweat forming on Bill's forehead, "Oh, don't worry. There won't be any toe-painting today, Billy Grey." Bill relax a bit.

  


"So, why did you tie me up?" He inquired.

  


"Well, why don't you listen?" She hissed back in a venomous voice, making Bill flinch again, "Have you noticed how Fox never sees me as a mate?"

  


"Why should he? You're his cousin," Bill said quietly. A shy voice didn't work.

  


Clarice pounded on him and kneeled on his lap, her fists hanging on to Bill's collar and pulling his face close to hers. She was snarling.

  


"We are not blood related, and besides, there's only a sliver of chance that the rumours are true. That should make it fine for a date or two, hmm?" Clarice asked. Bill gulped and nodded mindlessly. All he thought of was how she was going to murder him. Clarice got off of his lap, purposely jabbing him in the leg with a knee. Bill winced, but he didn't dare say anything else. Clarice angled her neck and looked at Bill with serious eyes, "Or do you think that I'm not attractive enough?"

  


"No, no, no!" Bill swallowed twice, both dry and lumpy, "You're beautiful. You're slim and shapely. You've got the nicest hips that I've ever seen. You've got handsomely large-"

  


"Okay, shut up," Clarice held up a paw to silence him, "You know that the best way to pierce a heart is with jealousy, right?"

  


"I was thinking a spear, but go on," Bill said, but when he saw Clarice's devious smile and her maniacal expression toward him, his warm expression faltered, "Oh. What can I say besides 'crap'?"

  


"You can say 'damn'," Clarice muttered, "Now, I've got an idea."

  


"When do you don't?"

  


"SHUT UP!" Clarice roared. Bill flinched back again. She cleared her throat, satisfied, and went on, "We'll go somewhere that we know Fox's is going to find us..."

  


"Like in the boy's bathroom," Bill pointed out. Clarice shoved him with a foot and his chair toppled over. Bill grunted and strained to get back up, but it didn't work.

  


"I'm trying to talk," the vixen said, emphasizing every word, "Now, when he finds us, you're gonna give me the most passionate kiss that you can give."

  


"Oh, damn my luck."

  


"You're going to damn it more if you don't SHUT UP!" Clarice screeched between clenched teeth. Bill gulped and laid quiet on the fallen chair. Clarice smiled, "Do you understand my instructions, Bill?"

  


He didn't answer.

  


"I said, do you understand me?"

  


Bill kept quiet.

  


"TALK, DAMN YOU!"

  


"But you told me to shut up."

  


Clarice froze, her eyes glinting with malice and her upper lip curling.

  


"Oh, now you listen," she spat. Bill smiled proudly in his immobile position.

  


"Yep."

  


"ARRGH!"

  


**

  


"Hey, here he comes," Clarice whispered. Bill sighed and peeked around the corner after her. Indeed, Fox was walking casually down the hall, a bunch of books in one paw and a half-eaten sandwich in the other. Bill was about to take his last breath before Clarice viciously grabbed him and forced their lips together. Bill, suddenly, wasn't so repulsed. She really knew how to kiss.

  


Squinting over Clarice's shoulder, Bill could see Fox walking right by their hiding spot (a little spot below the staircase). Fox didn't notice at first, but Clarice jabbed Bill in the kidney and he moaned, the sound muffled by her snout. Fox stopped, leaned back almost horizontally and watched the two. He stepped back a few paces and tip-toed near them, a grin plastered on his face and his sandwich, dripping with mayonnaise, raised over Clarice's head.

  


He dropped it.

  


Clarice screamed at the slimy feel of the mayonnaise, biting down on Bill's lip. Whirling around, Clarice locked eyes with Fox. In doing so, the sandwich was flung off her head and was slapped on Bill's muzzle. Bill's nose immediately got clogged with ketchup and mustard. A choking fit from the dog ensued.

  


"Hey!" Clarice growled at Fox, "We're doing something here."

  


"Oh, whoops," he snickered, "Did I interrupt something important? Or were you just giving Bill here an examination of his oral cavity and esophagus with your tongue?" Clarice glowered at him.

  


"Someone's paying a little too much attention during anatomy class," she muttered. Fox laughed, doubling back, until tears came out of his eyes. After a bit of hysterical laugher, Fox bent back up and saluted.

  


"Ciao, y'all," he chuckled. Without another word, he waltzed off, giggling.

  


**

  


"Some corporal," Clarice mumbled, making little circles in her tomato soup with her spoon, "He giggles like a little girl." Bill looked up from his steak, a bit of sauce stuck on his nose. Fox's ears perked up, and he just grinned. Fox slowly cut off a piece of his chicken and flipped it at Clarice with his fork. She glared at him, sliding the chicken off with a finger. Falco chuckled, picking at his salad.

  


"Being corporal doesn't mean it forbids you from laughing," Bill said from across the table. Fox, who was beside him, nodded mindlessly in agreement. Falco, from beside Clarice, nodded as well. Clarice glared at him.

  


"Stupid, trashy newbie," she said under her breath. Falco didn't hear, but Fox's large ears picked it up. He smiled his give-me-what-I-want-or-it's-blackmail-that-you'll-get smile and cleared his throat.

  


"Clarice, I want a soda," he declared, "Oh, and make it grape. I hate the peach one."

  


Clarice groaned, but obeyed anyway. Bill got up to empty his tray, but decided to follow her as well.

  


Bill peeked from behind the trash can as Clarice clinked a few quarters into the vending machine. It gave whir and out slid a purple can of pop. Bill walked up to her as she was picking it up.

  


"Do you want Fox that bad?" He asked. Clarice hesitated for a moment, then went on digging out the soda from the bottom tray.

  


"Not anymore. If he doesn't like me in return, then what's the point in liking him?" She said. Bill, confused, watched as she got the can, opened it, and drained the whole thing in six gulps. She took a hairpin from her hair and picked at the folding flap. It obediently sprang back up, making it seem as if the can was never opened in the first place. Smiling, Clarice replaced the pin back in her short, spiky hair and walked back to their table.

  


"Here you are, dear cousin," Clarice mocked, putting on a phony British accent. Fox took the empty can and shook it. Confused, he popped the tab and peered in.

  


"Oy, good joke, love," Fox snorted back. Without even looking, Fox threw the can over his shoulder. It landed right in the recycling bin. Falco, upon seeing that, crumpled up a napkin into a ball. Taking aim like a basketball player, he threw it at the trash can, a few feet closer to him than the bin. It missed.

  


**

  


"Ugh, I knew you would've drugged my soda. Whaddaya want?" Bill slurred. Clarice smiled kindly and wiped a thumb over Bill's lower lip. She held it up. Her thumb had a bit of a smear.

  


"Sometimes, strawberry soda at 11 in the evening may be bad for your health," Clarice chuckled as Bill struggled against his knots. He, in his utter horror, was tied up again in Clarice's chair. Knowing Clarice, she was going to do something extremely fun. For her, anyway.

  


"What's it gonna be tonight, Clair? Toe-painting? Facial? Please don't tell me you're gonna gimme a coat of mascara," Bill mumbled, still dizzy from the light drug. Looking at Clarice's digital clock on her bedside table, Bill could barely make out the blurry forms of the numbers 11 and 45.

  


"A question, Bill, or, maybe a request," she said, smirking, "Finish that sentence you were stuttering about how pretty I was?"

  


"Um, let me think," Bill mumbled, "Uh, you're, uh, slim? Yeah, I think that was one of 'em. Um, you have nice hips. Yeah, that was the second. And the third..."

  


"What was the third?" Clarice asked curiously. Bill swallowed past the lump in his throat two times without success.

  


"You have a, er, pretty chest."

  


Clarice threw her head back and laughed. Bill let out a nervous chuckle. It took Clarice a while to calm down from her hysterical laughter, and Bill was fidgeting nervously in his bonds. Clarice finally got over the fit and gave Bill a strange look.

  


"I've got one more thing to ask of you, Billy."

  


"Shoot."

  


"Give me another kiss. Please?"

  


"Eh?"

  


**

  


A/N: Yeah, I know the ending was a bit awkward, and you're probably wondering why I put up this useless chapter. It actually gets into Fox's character a bit, and it also give a bit of stuff about Bill and Clarice, both of whom I'm planning to use later.


	9. Crystal Clear Dreams

Wow... She's beautiful... - Fox McCloud

  
  


November 16, 2799, Dinosaur Planet, two days after it was ripped into five chunks

  
  


Krystal gasped as she opened her eyes. Sweat was beading from her forehead and she felt very hot. She then noticed what had woke her. It was her staff. It was calling for her. Krystal quickly grabbed it and asked it (psychically, of course) what was wrong. It shuddered and shook. It had received a message.

  


Brushing the warm liquid from her hair, Krystal closed her eyes and let the signal come to her. Suddenly, a picture formed in Krystal's mind. There was a leathery face. It had blue eyes and two horns. It seemed panicked.

  


"Please help..." he said in his native language, little bursts of blank, silent spaces covering his voice every now and then. Surprised that a dinosaur was able to send a distress signal to her staff, Krystal squinted her eyes and let the magic flow from her staff to her. The dinosaur was getting more and more aggravated by the moment, "SharpClaw...Attacking! Queen CloudRunner, if you can hear me...please...send us help!" Suddenly, an explosion rocked Krystal's mind as the background behind the dinosaur was swept by an orange flame. The dinosaur was hit from behind. He groaned, but went on.

  


"General Scales has launched a full...invasion against Krazoa Palace! Please...we're in a mountain...a storm is always brewing here, hiding us...How did they mange to find us?" The dinosaur suddenly screamed, and the vision went blank.

  


Krystal, after hearing the message, felt even more uncomfortable than before. Getting up from her shelter under the small tunnel, she saw that dawn had already broke. She looked behind her to see that the dinosaur mother was still asleep, protectively close to her five eggs. Sighing, Krystal exited the short tunnel and stepped into the sun. She could hear the distant yells of dinosaur soldiers; they were planning to open the gateway to Dragon Rock.

  


The big rock was still in its position in the centre island in the pond. Krystal mentally smacked herself. Of course it was! It was a rock. But then again, she could've sworn that it moved the other day. Krystal blinked as the stone statue seemed to mumble 'dratted noisemakers'.

  


Two days ago, Krystal felt a strange wave of magical energy coursing throughout the Lylat system. Curious, she decided to teleport there. Lucky for her, she missed a poison mushroom as she fell down onto the lushly vegetated planet called Dinosaur Planet. The mushroom, to her horrible luck, decided to shake off a cloud of powder anyway. Krystal had immediately gotten dizzy and sick. She remembered vomiting several times before a friendly dinosaur handed her a odd, oval fruit, and it didn't taste half bad.

  


Thinking that she could lend a hand to the EarthWalkers at Krazoa Palace, Krystal went around the pond and jumped off the waterfall (the good route out was blocked by a pile of rocks and a lazy ThornTail). She landed with a splash at the bottom, staff and a rolled up blanket in tow. To her surprise, ThornTail hollow was completely filled with all kinds of dinosaurs. Krystal could see the CloudRunners and the EarthWalkers carefully avoiding each other, the ThornTails engaging in theological discussions, and a couple of SnowHorn looking very worn out and warm. With their wooly mammoth fur and shape, they were bound to be hot in the morning sun.

  


The lead general appeared to be a ThornTail in smart armour. He was looking very confident of himself, chatting with three of his buddies: A HighTop, an EarthWalker, and a CloudRunner. They were making plans for the attack on General Scales' projects and armies at Dragon Rock. The CloudRunner looked as if he could help.

  


"Excuse me?" Krystal said loudly in dinosaur language, walking up to the four. The CloudRunner turned around and smiled, which looked weird, because his beak was preventing his mouth from curving.

  


"What's the problem, miss?" He squawked.

  


"The SharpClaw are attacking Krazoa Palace. I need a lift there," Krystal said over all the commotion behind her. The four dinosaurs froze. Quickly, they got into an argument on wether they should send a group to help, or just go on as planned. The EarthWalker also implied that Krystal had too much Dumbledang pods, making her slightly mad. Finally, they came to the conclusion that Krystal wasn't bloated and that they could not divert any more forces. The CloudRunner agreed to give Krystal a 'lift'.

  


"Just to tell you," he said looking at Krystal's body, "Two garments aren't gonna keep out the freezing rain in Krazoa Palace, or that's what I've heard about it."

  


"Be careful, Dallan!" The ThornTail shouted as Krystal quickly climbed onto the pterodactyl. Dallan nodded at his friends and flapped his wings, taking off to the north, Krystal observed.

  


**

  


"Tell me!" Dallan shouted back at Krystal, "How did you know that Krazoa Palace was under seize?"

  


"I received a garbled distress signal," she answered, the wind blowing in her hair and the rain splattering all over her as they flew, "It said something about a mountain hidden in a storm." Dallan heard this, and screeched in reply. Krystal wasn't at all prepared for the little battle that ensued.

  


(A/N: You know how this ends. Krystal's staff gets knocked out, she meets General Scales, she gets thrown overboard, my Dallan saves her behind, Krystal gets to Krazoa Palace, sees the dying dino, and retrieves the spirit. I want to leave this part out, partly because it'll take too long, and partly because I can't remember all the dialogue. Let's skip to the part where Krystal is gonna release the spirit, OK?)

  


**

  


Krystal gasped and groaned, feeling as if her bones were tearing from her flesh, or vise versa, whichever was more painful. In the reflection of the marble stone floor, she saw that her eyes were purple. Right below her, the glass bump was shining a intensely bright light. Krystal didn't note that, because the air seemed to be sucked out of her lungs. Dropping to her knees, Krystal doubled over in agony. Suddenly, a whispering voice inside her head told her to let go. The only other voice that had ever spoke to her like that was her staff.

  


Krystal let out a scream, a bright blue ghost erupting from her chest as she threw her torso out toward the carved face of the Krazoa. The spirit whispered a word of comfort to her and entered the head. The figure of the Krazoa trembled, and suddenly, the eyes of the face lit up and a bolt of magic energy escaped from its mouth. Weirded out, Krystal stumbled to her feet.

  


"Huh?" Krystal mumbled to herself, reaching out to touch the energy. Before she could even properly raise her arm, a shuffling sound behind her caught her attention. Turning around, Krystal saw the hideous face of... Something. Gasping in recognition, Krystal screamed at it, "It's you!" The thing grinned, and shoved Krystal into the shaft of light. Screaming in pain, Krystal was thrown backward nearly thirty yards, through the liquid barrier, and right into a container shaped like a crystal. How ironic.

  


As Krystal was raised by the crystal to the top of the palace, she heard a voice cackle with laughter.

  


**

  


November 29, 2799, Dinosaur Planet, Krazoa Palace

  
  


Krystal suddenly got the shivers. Goose bumps appeared on her flesh below her fur, and she suddenly felt very cold. Her mind was suddenly aware of the flaky dryness in her mouth and the emptiness of her stomach. Despite being in a stupid glass case like a little doll for half a month, Krystal didn't feel like she was going to die any time soon. She couldn't see, couldn't hear, couldn't smell, and she couldn't taste. The only thing she could do was feel the thirst in her throat and the hunger in her belly. The thing was trying to keep her miserable.

  


_Come on, princess. You can't be dead, can you? I can feel your life force. And I know that you can feel mine. Can you hear me?_

  


Krystal nearly laughed in relief. Her staff was back! But how? It had magic. It had the spirit of a warrior in it, but it certainly couldn't walk, much less fly a few thousand miles over the ocean to meet her.

  


In her mind, the vixen could see the raging storm tearing relentlessly on the stones of the palace. The statue of the Krazoa God was just in front of her, as if mocking her. She could smell the salt air, the crashing of a waves against the walls of the palace far, far below. The only thing that she paid attention to was a twinkle of energy coming from something, or someone, looking up at her from below.

  


_You are not dead. Close to it, but not dead. Are you having dreams? The dreams are because of the shield that he put up. Only something very powerful can break it apart again, like the spirits that inhabit this place._

  


_ He's looking at you, princess. Both of them. One looks at you with his selfish eyes, wanting, ravenously, the power that resides inside of you, me, and the spirits. The other looks upon you with innocent lust. He feels compassion for you. He wants you to be free._

  


If Krystal had any more blood able to flow around her veins and arteries, she would've blushed. The staff was a strange creature, indeed, but definitely Cerinian. It spoke wise words, but it could only talk to her. It only wanted to talk to her.

  


_Don't give up. We're going to set you free. We're going to stop him. Elias would've been proud of your bravery, Krystal, Princess of Cerinia. Elias would've wanted you to be strong. He would've._

  


Krystal strengthened her resolve, and tried to think of something positive, like a knight in shining armor smashing through the crystal and picking her up. The staff had left. All Krystal had now was a dream.

  


**

  


Krystal shivered in her mind. Darkness plunged her into its own deep recesses. She was trapped inside another one of her visions. Krystal suddenly felt very cold. In front of her, she saw a heroic figure. He was dressed in a godly cape and a regal shirt, a deadly golden sword at his hip. Five more knights were standing behind him, his followers, his allies.

  


Even farther behind the lord, there were two ghosts, beaming with pride from under their white cloaks. They were his former king and queen, and they were both dead. They knew that the lord was doing his duty with honor and grace. They were watching over him, his eternal guardians.

  


Krystal suddenly felt very small with her puny armor. Surprised, the lord walked up to her, a smile playing on his muzzle. He took her in his arms and held her in a loving embrace. Krystal sighed, very happy for the first time in thirteen days. The lord stroked her hair, smiling. Krystal was dismayed that she could not see his face, as the hood of his cape covered his eyes. Lost in her own thoughts, she straightened up to kiss him. As she did so, however, the lord did something very strange.

  


He screamed, dropping to his knees and clutching his head with his gauntlets. Krystal found herself pushed back as the lord allies swarmed around him, asking in strange, worried whispers. The lord moaned in pain, and Krystal ached to comfort him. The ghosts hovered above him, watching, faces contorted into expressions of hatred. Then, Krystal noticed how they were not looking at the lord, but some distance away from him, where a shadow was clutching him with its claws.

  


Krystal cried out, rushing towards the shadow, ready to strike it, but it was already too late. The shadow had invaded the lord, and the lord was slowly turning into something more dark. More vile. As the lord finally stopped groaning, his followers stepped back in shock. The lord bent up, revealing what he now was. His cape was a flag of death, his sword no longer golden, but black and full of hatred. His lips were pulled back in a horrible face of hate, and finally, Krystal saw his eyes. They were darker than night, as the rest of him.

  


She screamed, backing away from what was the lord. His followers shuffled back in shock, and Krystal tried to turn around and run, but something stopped her. It was his hand. It was clutched tightly on her shoulder. Krystal screamed again, because he was causing her pain. The lord laughed maniacally, and unsheathed his sword. He brought it up to Krystal's chest; her heart.

  


He shoved it forward with all his might.

  


**

  


A/N: Anyone care to guess who the 'lord' is?


	10. Soulless

Um, as much as I hate to admit it, Fox, you're really a loveless loner. Badda-ch! Burned ya! - Bill Grey (after two cups of coffee and an extra dose of Slippy's caffeine formula)

  
  


December 24, 2799, Dinosaur Planet, Krazoa Palace

  
  


"Boy, Pep. What do you think they're cheering for?" Fox asked over the radio, watching as a SharpClaw held up General Scale's belt. He gave a snarl of glee to his comrades and threw it down to the eager, sharp claws of the raptors below. Somehow, the storm had ended, and Fox could clearly see that Krazoa palace was on some sort of floating mountain over the ocean.

  


"I'm not sure," Slippy butted in, "Maybe Christmas?"

  


"That's quite unlikely," Peppy chuckled, "I don't think they have Christmas here."

  


Fox left the two to argue about the universalness of Christmas and boosted his ship back into orbit. Leaving the atmosphere of the now restored Dinosaur Planet, Fox located the Great Fox and docked at the back (which oddly, under the tail, looked, to the demented mind, like an anus).

  


The conveyor belt, for lack of better wording, hummed to life as it pushed Fox's Arwing further into the docking bay. The airlock was quickly flipped, and Fox was able to climb out of his little ship and take the lift back up into the cockpit...

  


**

  


December 24, 2799, orbit around Dinosaur Planet

  
  


Krystal groaned as the big mass of a ship missed the docking bay. Annoyed, Krystal tried a circular pass around the larger mothership. Krystal purposely manuvered the SharpClaw supply ship around the cockpit and back toward the docking bay for another try.

  


Fox really looked like that dog she killed all those years ago. That was why she was so surprised as she looked into his eyes for the first time. It had that same determination and energy as that prisoner back on Venom... Could he be some relative of Fox? Krystal shook her head to clear it and this time, tried a more of a shallower angle. The ship made a pneumatic sound as it hit the floor of the docking bay.

  


"Bulls-eye," Krystal giggled. She felt really good to be out of that moronic contraption of Andross'. Even more giddy with joy as she had her staff back. She had good reason to giggle.

  


Krystal was jerked backward as something moved under her ship. It apparently was a moving belt, carrying ships deeper into the mothership. Another hiss was heard as air filled the docking bay, and Krystal was able to get out and find the nearest place up toward the cockpit.

"Um, let's see," Krystal muttered to herself as she scanned the options once she was inside the lift, "Docking bay, nope. Living quarters? Probably not. Engine room? What would he be doing in there? Ah, cockpit." Krystal energetically mashed her fist on the button, and the lift quickly worked its way up the ship. Just before the lift opened, Krystal heard her own voice inside the cockpit. It was her message.

  


"...just one more thing to do..."

  


Krystal punched the button for the door to open, shy as ever. Tilting her head down a bit as the door opened, she looked up and smiled.

  


"And that's to say thank you," Krystal said, walking towards the five people inside the cockpit. They were all gathered around the main panels. There was a blue falcon, a toad, an aging hare, a robot, and of course, Fox.

  


"Um, okay," he stammered, "Er, I mean, sure, no problem." He smiled sheepishly at her. The toad laughed.

  


"You're not shy, are you, Fox?" He asked in a high-pitched tone. Fox threw a look at him, and the falcon grinned and nudged him, making Fox all the more confused.

  


"My sensors indicate that Fox's temperature is rising," the robot said, "Are you okay, Fox?"

  


"I'm gonna be just fine," Fox scratched his head in a modest fashion and smiled at Krystal. She smiled back. This guy was pretty strange, but since Krystal was like that too, she could get used to it. The hare, seeing that Fox and Krystal were serious targets for more wisecracks from the falcon and the toad, cleared his throat.

  


"I am Peppy Hare," he announced, diverting the vixen's eyes from Fox, "And this is Falco Lombardi and Slippy Toad. And that's Rob." He jerked a finger towards the metal robot.

  


"Nice to meet all of you," Krystal smiled.

  


"Uh, yeah," Fox murmured in a daze, "Nice to... meet you?" Everyone looked at him funny. Falco opened his mouth, but Peppy cut him off.

  


"So what did you bring for Christmas, Falco?" He asked. Falco paled.

  


"Christmas?" He stuttered, "I didn't know it was... Um, Christmas..."

  


"What? Did you have a few distractions, Falco? Namely Katt?" Fox snickered. Falco blushed, and moved to get away.

  


"I think I'll go take a nap."

  


"You do that," Fox said, his eyes following Falco as he got into the lift. Fox then turned back to the vixen next to him, "Where do you want to sleep?"

  


"I really don't think..."

  


"No, no, it's all good. You can stay with us for a while before we get back to Corneria," Fox grinned. Krystal looked over his shoulder at the captain's seat. It was littered with empty pizza boxes and crushed cans of beer and pop. Fox turned around to see what she was looking at, "Hmm, probably not here."

  


"How 'bout the den?" Slippy chirped. Fox nodded. Christmas was gonna be very happy that year.

  


**

  
  


Same day, unknown area

  
  


Caiman was pretty shocked as he saw his old boss again. Not through his own eyes, not through air, but through a mirror.

  


He scythed his hand over his shoulder to where the ghost of the ape should be, but it did nothing more that distort the mirror's supernatural apparition. The ghost of Andross started to move his arms around, as if directing Caiman elsewhere. The frog shivered, and tried to ignore the phantom's gestures. Running around wildly in his makeshift apartment, Caiman slammed open doors to get away. All it did was get the whole room in a mess.

  


"What do you want?" Caiman shrieked. The invisible foe moved around the room. Caiman could feel the air chill wherever Andross went. He had legs, but he floated anyway.

  


"I need a soul," a heavily accented voice hissed into Caiman's hole of a ear, "I need a soul in order to fight McCloud."

  


Caiman let out a noise like a mouse being stepped on. Scuttling around on all fours, the green amphibian screamed as the ghost chased him.

  


"Leave me alone!" He yelled to the air behind him. Caiman, once Andross' second lieutenant, now screeched like a little girl, trying to escape. He bolted for the door out, but a powerful gust of 'something' blew on the plywood door and it locked itself up. Shrieking even louder, Caiman scratched futilely on the door. Andross' ghost cackled in mirth, and it rushed into Caiman's body.

  


The scream would've been heard a mile away, if the place weren't deserted for the next ten kilometres.

  


**

  


Krystal woke with a start, sweat drenching her body yet again. The vision occurred again, but this time, she saw something else in the shadows of the dream. It was a figure, on its knees, his eyes staring off into space. It was almost like he was soulless. The staff was in the dream as well. The staff had something to play in the horrors of Krystal's mind.

  


**

  


A/N: Oh, that was quite short. Whatever, review and tell me what you think. Too creepy? Not creepy enough? Bump the rating again? Tell me, y'all. I need all your ideas to make this better.


	11. Alkavin McCloud's Psychoticness

We all have that weird little voice in our heads that tell us to be evil. I guess all you have to do is fight it. - Hannah Rainer

  
  


December 25, 2799, high orbit around Katina, 1230 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"Merry Christmas, Fox," Bill said cheerfully.

  


"Merry Christmas, Bill," Fox replied, embracing his old friend tightly, "What? No present?" Bill shrugged and pulled out a little box. Fox smiled, took it, and handed Bill one as well. Tucking it into his pocket, Fox turned to Krystal. Raising an eyebrow, he noticed how she looked pale under her fur, "Hey, Krystal, you okay?"

  


The vixen looked up from her daze, startled. She opened her mouth and closed it a few times, but all she managed was a squeak. Her once-pretty green eyes were bloodshot, as if she was awake the entire night. Krystal gave up trying to talk, and went back to staring stupidly at the glass table, shifting nervously again and again on the leather couch, as if uncomfortable.

  


"Whoa," Slippy said over his shoulder from in front of the TV (two inches in front of it, to be exact), "Maybe she's sick. Rob, can you do a quick scan?"

  


The robot complied, using some sort of red laser to make little circles in Krystal's ears, eyes, and nose.

  


"Subject has normal temperature, but is having heavy salt excretion and quickened breathing and heart rate," Rob reported in his mechanical voice. Everyone turned to Krystal with worried eyes. She shook her head slowly, her eyes still fixed on the coffee table.

  


"I'm fine... Just a... Never mind," she whispered hoarsely. Her eyes suddenly flickered up to Fox, and he thought he saw fear in her twin orbs. It was dismissed, as Fox couldn't tell, partly because she looked right back down again.

  


"Well," Bill said, "I'd better get going." He moved for the lift.

  


"Wait," Krystal said suddenly, "Can I come with you? I mean, I've never seen Katina before."

  


"Um, sure," Bill grinned, "Come on." Fox couldn't help but give his friend a look of jealousy.

  


**

  
  


William Grey's quarters, 1400 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"Put your paw on this," Krystal commanded, holding out her staff.

  


"Why?"

  


"Do it!"

  


"Y'know, you're beginning to sound like Fox's cousin, Clarice."

  


"Just DO IT!" Krystal shrieked, getting very impatient and flustered. Bill cringed, and finally obeyed. Even before his paw touched the staff, it started to glow red on the markings. Bill looked in horror, but unable to do anything, as blue light crept up his arm and spread all over his body. A moment later, the staff's head crystal was white instead of the blue that Krystal was so used to. Krystal grinned with satisfaction as she surveyed the strange new look that 'Bill' was giving her, "Okay, spill it. What's gonna happen to Fox?"

  


"Nothing much, princess," Bill's voice said, "He'll just be in a near-impossible predicament."

  


"That's a pretty big deal if you ask me," Krystal hissed, "These dreams, why can't they just stop?"

  


"Princess Rainer, that's because you're a seer. The visions will only stop when you die," Bill said, cocking his head to one side and observing Krystal, "You look so much like your great-grandmother." He put his hands on Krystal's shoulders, "You were both so beautiful, so kind, and so wonderful. So perfect."

  


"Hmm?" Krystal uttered before Bill suddenly muffled her questioning sound with a muzzle clamp. Bill, well, the staff's spirit, anyway, seemed way too caught up with memories to even bother with the fact that he was in someone else's body, and that the girl that he was kissing was not even his past lover. Krystal let the kiss go on for a few seconds before she realized who she was making oral contact with. Grunting, Krystal pushed the spirit-in-Bill away, "Ugh! I just frenched some dog that I don't even know. Even worse, it's the best friend of the fox that saved my life!"

  


"Whoops," the spirit shrugged, "Being stuck in a staff for a hundred years with nothing to do makes you pretty insane."

  


"Nothing to do?" Krystal shrieked, getting hysterical again, "I'll give you something to do! Why don't you tell me what all these stupid dreams mean? Better yet, why don't you tell me who you are?" The spirit scratched Bill's head.

  


"First, the dreams mean what they are meant to be, and as I said earlier, Fox is going to be in big trouble, nothing else I can do there. Your second question is a lot easier for me," Bill stood up straighter, "I am Alkavin McCloud, mercenary unit IronTail. Mate to Hannah Rainer, great-great uncle to Fox McCloud, great-grandfather to you."

  


Krystal blinked.

  


Alkavin-in-Bill blinked back.

  


Krystal screamed.

  


Alkavin-in-Bill blinked again.

  


"I kissed my great-grandfather?" Krystal squeaked to no one in particular, "And what, am I related to Fox now?"

  


"To answer your first question, no, you didn't really kiss your great-grandfather. My body is buried in the woods east of the Royal Kingdom. You kissed Fox's best friend. To answer your second question, yes, you are Fox's third cousin, once removed due to Cerinian tradition," the spirit smiled proudly, obviously happy that he was able to answer any question Krystal came up with.

  


"Arrgh!" Krystal screeched. Alkavin put both paws on Krystal's shoulder again.

  


"Calm down, child," he smiled, "You're just hysterical. Now, don't mind if I want to relive one memory of Hannah..." You can guess what happened next.

  


Krystal wanted to yell "Get off of me, Alkavin!" But it came out as "Mmmph omph o mmm, Ommphfen!" due to Bill's mouth. In addition to the humiliation of being overpowered by a husky body with a heavy tail (she was a warrior, after all), Krystal was suddenly thrown back onto Bill's bed and got crushed by the dog's weight. Flailing for all its worth, Krystal tried as hard as she could to get Bill off of her chest. Her metal armour and her bra were pressed into her flesh, making her even more uncomfortable. Krystal, with a sigh through her nose, gave up and just laid still as Alkavin went with his imagination.

  


"Hey, Bill, you there? Ya wanna go to the... WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

  


"Hey, your problem now," Alkavin shrugged as he pressed Bill's paw on the staff. A sparkle of blue light flickered at the part where gold and fur met, and a moment later, Alkavin's soul was back in the staff. That left a dazed and confused Bill sitting on top of Krystal's stomach.

  


"Fox?" Krystal peered behind Bill to see the videophone on. Fox's face was contorted with anger, and his face was beet red, even behind his fur. He obviously wanted Bill to come somewhere with him, but of course, he caught Alkavin getting creative with Bill's body. Too bad Fox didn't know that Bill was possessed.

  


"You moronic slut!" He yelled, "You just went off to have fun with my friend, huh? Well, I don't want you back on my ship again, and if you want to go back to wherever you were spawned from, then find some other ship to get on. I hope that the only suitable transportation would be a screwed up, old, vermin-and-insect infested crap of a ship! To hell with you, Krystal, and to hell with you, too, Bill!" And then Fox slammed his fist down on a button and the videophone sizzled off. Krystal was shocked, and Bill was just plain confused.

  


"Hey, Krystal? What am I doing on top of you?"

  


**

  
  


Corneria, 1800 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"Humph! I don't need him, anyway. He's just really over reactive! He wouldn't even let me explain!" Krystal ranted, making Alkavin-back-in-Bill flinch, "Well, that damned dog will just rot in his own prejudice. I'll just teleport the both of us to Corneria. Well, not taking Commander Grey, of course."

  


"Let's get going, before Fox gets really angry and decides to blow up Katina. You know, when I was with him, he wasn't that bad. He was pretty nice and calm. I wonder what's gotten into him," Alkavin pondered.

  


"I'll tell you what's gotten into him," Krystal screamed, "HE'S JUST A STUPID FOOL WHO WON'T LISTEN TO ANYBODY. He's way too selfish to even care what I have to say. Did you see how he just cast Bill away? And Bill was supposed to be his best friend!"

  


"Well, I don't know what to say. I just think we should get to Corneria and see if we can find anything about Andross. You are sure that he has something to do with Cerinia, right?" Alkavin asked.

  


"I'm very sure. A bodiless head. I'm sure he possesses some form of magic, and there are only two known magical places in the galaxy. One he hasn't heard of until a few months ago, probably, and the other was pretty well known around its parts. I remember Peppy saying something about Andross not always being a bodiless head."

  


"Let's go, then. Lots to do... Wait, how did you recognize Andross, anyway?"

  


"Dream," was all Krystal said.

  


**

  
  


High orbit around Corneria, 2300 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


Falco looked up from his book as he heard a smashing sound followed by the shattering of glass. Slipping the heavy volume under his mattress to make sure that nobody found it, Falco followed the continuing smashing and shattering to the den, where, to his horror, Fox was destroying dozens of wine glasses. Though they can be re-melded and made into new ones, Falco was still surprised that Fox would even want to break anything. What was even more disturbing was that Fox had a bottle of whiskey with him. It was new, but it was already half drained. Not even Falco could take that much. After a few drinks of that stuff, Falco would get drunk, but after a few more drinks, Falco would get massive stomach pains. Then he'd pass out. But Fox nearly drank five times what Falco would take to get slurry.

  


Every time Fox took out a glass from the cabinet, he would slam it down so hard that the stem broke off. He then poured the alcohol into it until it spilled over, then slammed the bottle down hard, too. Fox drank the whiskey, gasped for air, and finally threw the glass at the wall where it would break into tiny pieces. With every throw, he would utter a dirty curse at either Krystal or Bill, and after every throw, he would just repeat the process again.

  


"Whoa, buddy, you okay?" Falco asked cautiously. Fox threw a menacing look at him, but ignored the bird and kept on drinking, gasping, and swearing. Falco sighed, "Fox, look, it's Christmas. No matter what Bill or Krystal did, it's still a good occasion. Please don't ruin it, and besides, you wouldn't want to wake up with a hangover, would you?"

  


"I don't care," Fox muttered, completely depleted of wine glasses. He quickly switched to swigging out of the bottle.

  


"Aw, come on, Fox," Falco reasoned, "Don't waste yourself on that crud. Come on, get some sleep, and you can break some more things in the morning. You look dead tired." Falco mentally told himself to drug Fox with enough concentrated liquid wormwood and echidna to knock him out for the next three days.

  


"I don't wanna go to sleep. I wanna strangle Bill," Fox murmured, "I'll gut him. I'll skin him. I'll cut off him undeserving snout and boil it for soup."

  


Falco took a step back in shock. The usual Fox, when in heartbreak or unfairness, goes quiet and sad. Fox never went violent. Heck, Fox never made a death threat in his life. His entire family line was nice, but according to Peppy, James would get pretty awkward when insulted, but not to the point of gutting someone. From the look of the fox's face, Falco could tell that he was dead serious about what he wanted to do to Bill.

  


"Fox, what did you drink?" Falco asked nervously.

  


"No, Falco, I'm not drunk. I'm just so, so angry," Fox growled before he smashed the bottle on the counter top and stormed away to his quarters. Falco looked at the pieces of glass, and to the broken bottle. He shook his head in pity for his friend.

  


**

  


IMPORTANT NOTE FOR RICK AND ANYBODY ELSE EXPECTING A LOT OUT OF THIS: I would just like to say that if you're expecting to see a big scene where Krystal puts the wee pieces of Cerinia back together and revive everyone, you can quash that hope. I'm sorry, but I'm not planning to put Krystal in more of a princessy thing other than the fact that being one gives her control of Alkavin and the staff. Thank you, and sorry again. I love you guys, but you know how it is when a fic is written entirely due to caffeine. And another note to Rick Ons: Do you think breast rubbing would qualify for an R? Just to make sure.


	12. Sibalt and Lylat

... And when he saw that the face reflected in the pool of water was one of his own and the devil's, the man ran like a man possessed, far past the hills and the lakes, for he _was_ a man possessed, and one more story is added to the legends... - Unknown

  
  


December 26, 2799, Corneria, 1000 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"This place is useless," Krystal muttered, typing fast, "There's nothing here to read on!"

  


_There's plenty to read. Most of it's just junk._

  


"Whatever," she kicked the staff from under the table. The bag that held Alkavin quivered angrily. A jolt of energy burst at the bonds of their souls, and Krystal gasped with pain. Alkavin had just shocked her with a spell of his own. In the bout, Krystal smacked her paw against the keyboard and hit the 'B' button. A list immediately popped up with entries beginning with B. One really caught Krystal's eye, "Balance?"

  


_Ooo, I got it now!_

  


"Really?"

  


_Yes, yes, hear me out. Everything in the universe must be in a state of balance, correct? You know, the good guy can't exist without a bad guy, and vise versa. Now, to disrupt the balance in either direction would mean chaos, right?_

  


"Get on with it, you loony old dog!"

  


_Okay. A flash of green light, as Elias had said, would mean that the spell, whatever it was, that the Royal Guards cast was successful, right? And what spell do you know that flashes green upon casting?_

  


"A birth spell?" Krystal asked slowly.

  


_Yes, yes, you are getting good. A birth spell, or the charm of everything living, is considered very, very heavy magic, tipping the scale in favour of good. Now, the gather of ten people to perform the ritual would mean that a planet, or perhaps and entire solar system would be blessed, correct? But there were over a hundred Guard at the ocean by the time. Now, what I think is that the Guard were trying to bless the universe, but they seriously messed up somewhere in between, and forgot the open the gateway to space. Therefore, all the energy was unleashed upon Cerinia. That much good energy, as you know, could very much blow something up._

  


"Oh," Krystal said shortly, dazed, "Why didn't I see it before?"

  


_It was because you were too ignorant, princess. You thought dear Elias could do nothing wrong._

  


"Shut up, Alkavin," Krystal bit her lip, "All these years, for an answer that was as simple

as the moonrise."

  


_Yes, yes. And I've got a theory for that big ugly monkey, too. I think, that when Cerinia exploded, it unleashed all its magic energy in a certain radius. The Lylat, Silbalt, and a whole swack of other systems were affected. I think that Andross somehow managed to trap the magic and use it for himself._

  


"That shall do as a suitable explanation until we verify it," Krystal said, "Okay, now to get back to Fox and see if he's calm again."

  


_Somehow I doubt that._

  


Krystal ignored her great-grandfather and rose from her seat. Dragging her little pack with her, she couldn't help but notice the stares she was getting from the males inside the huge marble library. Krystal quickly made her way back out into the bright sunlight, out of the huge building supported by columns, and down the street. Whispering a little incantation to herself, she saw a vision of Fox, not on the Great Fox, but rather at a hanger, walking around, muttering darkly. It was a tracing spell, simple, but not like a map. Krystal needed to find Fox only with a mental picture of the hanger.

  


Krystal rolled her eyes as someone whistled at her. Ignoring nearly everything that planted eyes on her skimpy clothing, she hailed a taxi hover car and climbed in.

  


**

  
  


Hanger outside of Hansonville, 1100 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"Hey, Fox, do you want a-"

  


"No, you slimy green idiot," the vulpine hissed. Slippy flinched, and scurried off without another word. Peppy stepped down from the ship, just as Slippy ran up the steps to safety from the crazy fox.

  


"Fox, are you all right? You seem a lot more stressed today," Peppy said worriedly. Fox glared up at the old rabbit.

  


"I'm fine, Peppy, except for the fact of that slut vixen running of with my best friend!" He screamed. Peppy, unlike Slippy, didn't so much as blink.

  


"How are you so sure that Krystal slept with Bill?"

  


"Because I saw it with my own two eyes," Fox muttered, and went back to pummelling the punching bag nailed to the cement floor of the hanger. Peppy shook his head.

  


"Anyway, I just got a message from some bunch of Titanian terrorists. They want us to help them," Peppy rolled his eyes, "I deleted the message, of course. I also-"

  


"How much were they offering?" Fox asked stiffly, still jabbing at the bag. Peppy stared at Fox, not believing what he was hearing.

  


"They were offering three million credits, but-"

  


"Let's go."

  


"WHAT?" Peppy yelled, "Are you out of your mind, Fox? We're supposed to be the good guys!"

  


"Good guys my butt," Fox hissed, giving the bag a final blow, "We're mercenaries. We sell to the highest bidder. We're neutral. We kick anyone's ass for a bit of money, now let's get to Titania."

  


"Fox, I really want you to rethink this," Peppy said slowly.

  


"My words, as First Lieutenant, are your orders. If you don't like them, then you can just quit, you old hack. I outrank you by one seat of command, and unless you want your shrivelled, wrinkly behind off of my ship, then do as I say," Fox snarled. Peppy couldn't do anything except follow Fox back onto the ship.

  


**

  
  


Corneria, 1630 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


Krystal fished out a few quarters she stole from Bill and clinked them into the payphone. Biting her lip, trying to remember, she punched in the number to the Great Fox. Thankfully, it came through, telling Krystal that the payphone probably used satellites to transfer signals. She got a view of the cockpit of the Great Fox on the video screen. Krystal saw Peppy and Slippy, but Fox and Falco were nowhere to be seen.

  


"Hey, Krystal, where are you?" Slippy piped up.

  


"I'm somewhere on Corneria, some mall, I think," Krystal shrugged, "Where are YOU? I've been trying to find you guys for over six hours now!"

  


"We're in orbit over Titania."

  


Krystal groaned and smacked her head on the glass protecting the phone.

  


"Yeah, I know. We've got a, uh, 'job' to do. Fox's in the docking bay arming himself, and Falco's probably with him, complaining about our new assignment, as we all are," Peppy said, "Do you want me to give him a message?"

  


"Yes. Tell him that I didn't sleep with Bill. If he wants further proof, he can ask that hound. He was probably drunk or something, and decided to try and kiss me. It sort of worked," Krystal lied. _At least it's true that I didn't do Bill._ Krystal thought bitterly, wishing that Fox would just come to his senses.

  


"I'll try to tell him that, but lately he's acting very weird. He probably will just holler at me and swear, but I'll try," Peppy smiled, "See you later, Krystal, hopefully."

  


"Yeah, bye!"

  


The screen zapped off, and Krystal sighed miserably. Muttering something in her British accent and attracting more stares from young males, Krystal bent over and rummaged through the pack (Bill's, actually, stolen, too).

  


_Hey, they're looking at your butt._

  


"Shut up, Alkavin," Krystal grumbled. Suddenly, she felt a sharp pain in her rear. Squealing at the pinch, Krystal jumped up, blandishing her staff. It caught the dog in the head, and he was instantly KO'd. Keeping the staff out, Krystal shouldered her pack and walked off growling "Damn you. If you come within three feet of me, I'll kill you" to any person that stared at her long enough.

  


Fine time to buy some clothes. Too bad she didn't have enough money.

  


**

  


A/N: Yes, this is one of the shorter ones, isn't it? And it goes more into how Cerinia went ka-blam. Yes, Krystal seemed a bit aggravated, too, isn't she? That's because she's under so much stress, but Fox has a different reason...


	13. Away the Mercenaries

That isn't right... Don't hurt him... - The little part of Krystal

  
  


December 27, Titania, 1200 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


The people on the ground gasped and pointed as two Arwings streaked over the rust-coloured skies of the desert planet. Thinking it was Fox McCloud and his trustworthy wingman, Falco Lombardi, showing off at the mines of Titania, they watched in awe at the two planes. They were quite wrong.

  


The two newly polished jets screamed toward their destination, leaving two trails of searing heat and blue flame in their wake. They were just on time.

  


One of the pilots had a grim sort of determination on his face as he easily turned his Arwing around the peaks of the mountains, onward to the main mine. His wingman lagged behind him a bit, following his leader with a zombie-like expression. Falco obviously didn't like what they were about to do. Fox, however, didn't seem to care how many innocent people were going to die.

  


Fox suddenly dipped, and Falco with him. They were racing toward the ground until they were both two story's worth of height between themselves and the ground. Fox saw his target up ahead: A huge mountain dotted with holes. A great big mine for iron and sulphur.

  


Inclining his Arwing with the ground, Fox armed his bomb. Weaving easily out of the way of cranes, stacks of boxes, and mounds of dirt, he neared the middle of the mountain. Falco also had his feather finger on top of the his big red button. Muttering a prayer to those about to die, Falco took in a deep breath and waited for Fox to drop his bomb first, which he didn't take long to do.

  


Those on the ground saw two huge explosions, one after the other, and two jets soaring through the clouds of dark smoke. The two did U-turns and went back the way they came. A few moments later, a mass of militia stormed the mines and took it over before the defenders even had a chance to react.

  


And so, all around the Lylat System, people wondered, and wondered, if Fox McCloud has turned to the side of evil.

  


Has he?

  


**

  
  


Papetoon, 1230 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


Clarice chewed thoughtfully on her garlic bread as she squinted at the headlines of her newspaper. She blew out a spray of crumbs as she learned that there was a killing over at the other end of the city. Muttering disapprovingly, Clarice took another chunk and flicked on the TV. There was a story unfolding right in front of her face.

  


"Holy..." She said, her face stuffed with garlic bread. Apparently, Fox went crazy and blew up a mine. Chuckling, Clarice said to herself, "I always knew that he would've went crazy one way or the other. Damn it..."

  


Swallowing the chunk of bread, Clarice made up her decision. Quickly packing a few belongings into a little suitcase, she turned off everything and paddled out the door of her modest home. Clarice fumbled with the keys to lock the door, but got it done eventually. Wiping her mouth clean of bread and butter, Clarice quickly jumped into her car and sped off towards the base.

  


**

  


"Hey!" She yelled to a guy holding a wrench. He was up on a ladder, screwing something into her ship, "Get the hell out of there!"

  


"But I was..."

  


"Shut up and get out," Clarice snarled. The mechanic obeyed, and Clarice climbed up the ladder into the cockpit. Tipping the ladder away and onto the mechanic's head after she was in, Clarice ignored his swearing and turned on the engine. The ship boosted itself to life, and Clarice called down to the half-conscious mechanic below, "Tell General Sharp that I'm going to knock some sense into McCloud!"

  


"You do that, lady," the mechanic grumbled, shoving the ladder off of himself. Clarice's shiny new fighter jet lifted off the ground and flew away into the sky. The mechanic stared after her ship, "Jeez, how did she make Major? Threaten the General? Maybe she threatened both of them..."

  


**

  
  


Deep space, near Sector Z Nebula, 2045 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"What are you in here for?" Krystal asked the gray-and-brown vixen. She was leaning against the wall, a sour look on her face. The vixen looked like she was prepared to knock down Fox's door any moment.

  


"I'm gonna see how many smacks it takes for Fox to come back down to reality," she snorted, chewing her gum and talking at the same time, "I swear, if that idiot does anything else as stupid as that, I'm gonna-"

"You're not his..." Krystal stopped, studying this vixen's face closely. It had the expression of a kind of strictness, but she was nowhere near old enough to be Fox's mother. Besides, Peppy said that all of Fox's close relatives were dead. Maybe this vixen was...

  


"No, I'm not Fox's aunt or anything," she chuckled. Seeing the still-confused look on Krystal's face, she said, "And no, I'm not his wife, either. I'd be damned before I see the day where there's a ring on my finger, and even more damned if Fox put it there. Jeez, sometimes, I think that kid would go nuts any second, and it looks like he just qualified for a mental institution a few hours ago. Oh, I'm sorry, am I ranting again?"

  


Krystal nodded.

  


"Well, anyway, I'm Krystal," she held out a paw for the vixen.

  


"I'm Clarice, Fox's only living cousin," the vixen took Krystal's paw and shook it roughly. Krystal desperately wanted to open her mouth to tell her that she was Fox's cousin as well, but she thought better of it. Instead, Krystal settled for:

  


"Shall we go in and knock some sense into him together?"

  


"Sure," Clarice smiled. Nodding in unison, the two marched down the hall, shoving anything and everything out of their way, including something blue and feathery. The blue-and-feathery thing seemed quite annoyed and flustered, but didn't do anything about it, much less complain like he always did. Clarice hesitated for a moment, then turned around and marched a few steps toward Falco. His eyes going wide with fear as Clarice grabbed him by the collar, he screeched unhappily as he was dragged off towards Fox's quarters. Krystal smiled in understanding.

  


"Okay, bird-brain," Krystal growled as they reached Fox's bolted door, "Give the code, or I'll make chicken strips with your flesh." Krystal waved her sharp staff threateningly in front of Falco. Under enough pressure already, Falco made a funny noise and pressed 2, 5, and 3 on the buttons next to the door. As soon as '3' was pressed, Falco ran off as fast as his legs could carry him.

  


_I think you gave the poor bird a heart attack. No matter, the real challenge comes with the orange-furred one._

  


"Get out," a bored voice mumbled from within as the door slid open with sharp hisses. Fox was lying on his bed, his laser gun in his hand and two eyeballs fixed on the ceiling. Frankly, he thought it was Falco or someone else not as angry, "If it's my dinner, just set it on the table."

  


"If I had your dinner, Foxy Boy, I'd shove it up your butt before you can even scream," Clarice said, crossing her arms over her chest. Fox twitched, but didn't look at the two.

  


"And I'd help her," Krystal added, shrugging, "After I give you serious concussions and brain damage with my staff."

  


Fox sat up on his bed and placed his hands on his knees like a boy caught stealing candy. The only difference was that Fox had a blaster in his fist-on-the-knee, and a boy who was stealing candy was most likely to have a slingshot as his most dangerous weapon. Fox's eyes were narrowed in annoyance, as if he thought the vixens were mere talking mosquitoes.

  


"You," Fox gestured to Krystal with his gun, "I don't even _want_ to deal with. You," he looked at Clarice, "had better get off my ship before I'm forced to put a hole through your head." And he was talking to them like they were mere talking mosquitoes.

  


Clarice suddenly leapt at Fox, ignoring his gun, and punched him in the face. Hard. The impact knocked out a glob of spit and threw Fox back into the wall. The gun was knocked askew, and Krystal neatly caught it as Fox's paw was jerked forward with the punch. Krystal quickly tucked the gun in her bag, which she still had over her shoulder, and advanced toward Fox with the sharp end of her staff pointed at him.

  


Krystal wrinkled her nose. Fox's room had the smell of beer, and nearly everything was covered with cans and pizza boxes. The bed, dresser, bedside table, and even the little shelves in his closet were overflowing with cans, and that wasn't even including the floor (imagine a truck smashed into the wall of a beer factory, with the cans spilling out, minus the truck and debris, and you've got Fox's room).

  


"You bit-"

  


'Smack'

  


"Ugh..."

  


'Pow'

  


"Um, Clarice, do you think that you should stop hitting Fox?"

  


'Smack'

  


"Nope. The more I punch and slap him, the more sense he'll regain."

  


'Whack'

  


"Get off of me, you stupid mor-"

  


'Bam'

  


"..."

  


'Smack'

  


**

  


"Now, I think that's a bit too much," Krystal said, observing how tightly Clarice was making the ropes. Clarice was tying Fox to his on of his bedlegs. The bed was securely nailed to the floor, so she had no worries about it getting slipped off. Clarice shrugged, and pulled the knot hard. Fox groaned in his unconsciousness. Blood was spilling out of his mouth and nose, and all Clarice thought of doing was just punch some more.

  


"No, Krystal. You see, the easier you go on a madman, the more dangerous he is. Fox is better off sleeping and tied up."

  


"But do you have to hurt him so?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Oh," Krystal bit her lip. As much as she wanted to hurt Fox as well, a part of her twanged in mental pain each time Fox was hit.

  


_I know what you're thinking, Princess Rainer, and no, it's not magical in nature, the pains. It's merely a conflict you have with yourself._

  


"What's the conflict, then?" Krystal hissed to her staff. Clarice turned in her knot-making.

  


"What did you say?"

  


"Nothing," the blue vixen said quickly. Shrugging, Clarice finished the knots and sat down on the floor.

  


"You want a smack with this maniac?" Clarice asked, as if Fox was some play dummy that everyone was welcome to hit. Too bad Fox wasn't made of burlap. If he didn't have nerves, then it would've been a lot more fun.

  


"Sure," Krystal tried to smile sadistically, and nearly succeeded. As she hit Fox with her staff, she tried to ignore the twangs, and tried to keep the tears in. Even though she hated him for being such a jerk, the tiny part of her just wanted to throw away the staff, hug Fox, and whisper words of comfort to him. Krystal set her jaw, and blocked off the tiny part of her and hit the dog until it felt really good to whack the idiot.

  


**

  


A/N: Yeah, that was a bit weird. Oh, yeah, Krystal doesn't want to hurt Fox, that's why she's crying. For one thousandths of a point (0.001) can anyone tell me why she doesn't want to hurt Fox? Yes, that was sarcasm. And yes, it was damn cheesy of a chapter. I hate this one, but "whatever" anyway.


	14. Foggy Stones

The only problem with a compassionate heart is that it is the most liable for attack. And the person wielding the heart will be so blind to the attack that they won't know until they are dead. - Alkavin McCloud

  
  


December 28, 2799, deep space, 0030 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


It was the dream again.

  


Krystal watched for the third time as the shadow encased the lord's body. As the lord transformed, Krystal, yet again, backed away. She looked at her hand, where a dagger had suddenly appeared. She understood what was to be done.

  


As the darkened lord made his way toward Krystal with his menacing glare, she raised the weapon. The lord didn't notice it until it was too late. Krystal plunged the blade right into his heart before he could spear her with his sword.

  


"I tire of you," Krystal said, but the words were not what she wanted to say, "Lest you die, I shall not rest in peace."

  


"Thou art incorrect, blue one," the lord wheezed in a very familiar voice, "If thy blade should assault me, it is not I who shall be cut by its edge. If you assault me, it is the one that thou cherish shall die." With a unearthly scream, the lord dropped to his knees, darkness spilling from his wound, until he was no longer the dark lord. He bled until he returned to his normal, regal state, but even then, he still was dying.

  


Krystal leapt to the lord's side, his cloth shirt stained with red. The abyss around them turned a forbidding gray, and Krystal felt a tear fall from her face.

  


"Is this how it will end?" She whispered as she woke.

  


**

  


Deep space, 0115 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"Fox?" Krystal called through the darkness of the room, defying all she has learned from her dreams. A groan was heard from the bottom of the bed. Krystal jumped from the matteress and walked slowly towards the bend shape of the vulpine. Fox was stirring, but not quite awake. As Krystal's pupils dilated for the darkness, she saw the welts and bruises that she had given him.

  


"Krys?" He whined. Krystal wrapped him in a hug, gently rubbing his back.

  


"You're okay, you're okay. I really didn't want to do that to you, Fox, but..." Krystal sighed. "Oh, how I hate you," she murmured in irony. Fox whimpered as Krystal touched a swell on his back.

  


"I'm... I'm sorry for calling you a slut..." he whispered, "You really didn't do it with Bill, did you?"

  


"Oh, of course not, silly," Krystal smiled, hugging him harder, "Those ropes must be bothering you. Do you want me to loosen them a bit?" Fox twitched and blinked. Krystal thought she saw a bit of bright gold in his irises.

  


"Take them off," Fox said. Krystal couldn't tell if the tone came from anger or pain. Ignoring the dream completely, Krystal reached behind Fox and undid the knots on both his wrists and ankles. Fox then did something very surprising. In his awkward position, bent nearly double with his legs under him, he lifted his head to Krystal's belly where she was reaching for the knots, and licked her.

  


Krystal gasped as she felt the soft, hot, wet organ touch near the bottom of her ribs. The touch sent goose bumps all over her body. Fox continued to lick slowly, manipulating his free hands to find their way to Krystal's buttocks.

  


"Fox," Krystal shivered, "What are you doing?" Fox didn't reply. He had forced Krystal onto her back, straddling her. He leaned over and started to lick her neck, making her shiver more. His hands left her lower region for her chest, moving a few fingers under her bra armor. Krystal, for a fraction of a second, enjoyed the treatment, but years of discipline and a few scary visions told her to push Fox away. _I am a princess,_ Krystal told herself as she moaned, _I have dignity. I am not to mate with anyone until I am wed..._ Krystal quickly shoved Fox off.

  


"What?" Fox sneered, "Something the matter?" Krystal stood up.

  


"You," she pointed at him, "are not Fox."

  


"Took you long enough to make that observation," Fox laughed, "You had better bow before me, vixen, or you shall taste the power that I wield." He raised a hand into the air, and the lights flickered on. A sort of sword materialized in his palm, and he waved it at Krystal. The blade was white, but the handle was black obsidian.

  


"You underestimate me," Krystal said, sticking her nose in the air. A wave of her blue paw behind her and her gold staff flew into her hands. Fox, or rather, the evil spirit laughed. It was controlling Fox like a puppet, and it probably wanted both of them dead.

  


"Do you wish to battle here?" The spirit gestured with Fox's arm around the room, "So be it." The bed and the dresser suddenly flew away, smashing into the door, blocking anyone wishing to go in, or out. The sword looked very sharp.

  


Krystal waited until Fox struck. The blow from atop knocked her off her feet, even thought she blocked it. A metallic ring sounded as the two weapons collided, a strong vibration rattling Krystal's skull. Fox wasted no time in attacking again, lunging at Krystal with the sword as she tried to get up. She dodged it, but just barely.

  


"You're pathetic," Fox howled with laughter. Krystal groaned and struck out with her staff. Fox easily deflected the blow with his sword. Getting up again, Krystal shook her head to clear it. She waited again, and Fox hit again, this time to the side, jarring her head with shakes yet again as she blocked it.

  


Sparks flew as the opponents swung at each other. Fox was obviously getting the upper hand, as Krystal was tiring quickly and was moving slower with every block or dodge. Fox took the chance and struck out with his foot, catching Krystal in the jaw. He immediately swung his sword around and knocked Krystal's staff away.

  


"Is that it? Perhaps I overestimated you," Fox jeered. Krystal rubbed her cheek and tasted blood. Fox threw his sword to his left hand and mashed his right fist into Krystal's stomach before she even had a chance to even try to recover her staff. The impact brought Krystal back down on her back. Fox laughed again, and lifted his sword for a lethal swing.

  


The next few things happened all within the time frame of two seconds. Fox swung his sword down, but Krystal brought her wrist up to her face. The sword hit the bracelet and shattered. Fox was dazed, but Krystal reacted quickly, thrashing out with one foot, getting Fox in the groin, and swinging with an elbow, cracking at least two of his ribs.

  


"No, I still think you underestimated me, and my armor," Krystal said.

  


"Ah, but I disagree," Fox replied, straightening up, looking as if he was unhurt, "Stupid fool, when you strike at me, I do not get harmed. You've only broken a few of Fox's ribs, and perhaps bruised his scrotum, but I, I am unharmed, _Princess._"

  


"Aw, shit," Krystal muttered as Fox charged at her. The force rammed her into the wall, knocking the wind out of her. Fox then punched Krystal so hard and fast that before long, she was dizzy, bloody, and groaning on the floor.

  


"Mayhap the pretty girl will like a taste of her own medicine?" Fox asked, picking up Krystal's staff. The vixen whimpered and turned her head away.

  


Krystal didn't see what occured next, but she saw a blinding flash of light and heard a scream from Fox. Thinking it was some sort of wizardry concocted by Fox, Krystal curled up into a ball and waited.

  


But nothing happened.

  


"Huh?" Krystal peeked from her ball position.

  


"My great-great nephew is pretty strong for his size. Heh, puny little boy, isn't he?" Fox chuckled, examining himself. Krystal sat up, bewildered, and saw the black stone in his hand.

  


"What? H-how?"

  


"Oh, it's all about invasion," Alkavin-in-Fox said, "Quite simple, and he didn't even see it coming. Stupid Andross. Killed my great-nephew and his wife, he did. What a moron, eh, Princess?" Alkavin threw the stone to Krystal, who looked at it. Inside of it, Krystal could see a haze of some sort of fog, swirling around in the stone.

  


"This is Andross?" Krystal's jaw dropped.

  


"Yeah. It's Andross' vile force and another's soul, infected by it. He nearly got Fox, I tell you."

  


"So, this is just a soul tainted by Andross?"

  


"Isn't that what I just said?" Alkavin scoffed, crossing his arms, "Oh, don't mind if I go around for a bit. I think I really like this body. It's a lot more like mine..."

  


"Alkavin..."

  


"No, no, don't worry. I'll bring your boyfriend back in one piece," he said. Krystal blushed furiously.

  


"That's it?" 

  


"What do you mean?"

  


"That was kinda simple," Krystal murmured, looking from the stone to Alkavin, then back.

  


"Yeah, yeah... I'm going to go explain all of this to that blue bird. Fox probably won't remember much."

  


**

  


High orbit over Corneria, 1200 hrs, Cornerian time

  


"Oh, jeez," Fox muttered, feeling the swells all over him, "Must've been some mugging, to cause that kind of amnesia, I mean." Krystal covered her mouth to hide her smile. Apparently, Alkavin convinced Falco (probably by using some sort of spell) that Fox was possessed. When Alkavin removed himself from Fox, Krystal fed the wounded dog a cock-and-bull story about a few muggers from Fortuna beating him into a pulp.

  


"You're fine now," Falco chuckled.

"Yeah." Fox sighed and closed his eyes, "They hit me in the balls! Oi, it hurts."

  


Falco gave Krystal a look and she shrugged. "I think his balls are fine" she mouthed. Falco raised an eyebrow.

  


"How would you know?" He asked.

  


"... Know what?"

  


"No, no, nothing. Get back to sleep," Krystal threw a blanket over Fox's face and shoved Falco out of the room. The bird scowled, but obeyed. Krystal then turned to Fox, taking the blanket back off.

  


"Whazzit this time?" He slurred.

  


"Fox, don't you remember _anything_?" Krystal asked, knitting her fingers together.

  


"Uh, yeah. I had some weird dream where I was tied to some kind of post. You were there, and you hugged me..." Fox paused, "Before that, I had a weird dream where you were having sex with Bill. I got all mad and you went away, then I blew up a mine on Titania, and then Clarice beat me up... I'm sorry, it's all kinda weird..."

  


"I understand, Fox," Krystal smiled, "Anything else?" Fox cringed.

  


"Yeah, but..."

  


"Just tell me."

  


"I was, um..."

  


"Go on."

  


"N-never mind. Don't you have something to attend to?"

  


Krystal grinned inwardly, and left Fox to sleep.

  


**

  


A/N: Ah, 'ce un grand fromage'! Sooooooooo, sooooooo cheesy...


	15. Goodbye, Krissy

December 31, 2799, Corneria, 2358 hrs, Cornerian time

  
  


"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! I'M FINE, I TELL YOU! LET ME OUT! I WANNA PARTY!" A voice shouted from within the Great Fox. Most people looked at the big ship, shrugged, and turned away. Slippy slapped his forehead, remembering that Fox was due to get out of sick leave. The toad ran into the ship as fast as he could.

  


"Whoa, I guess he really likes New Years," Bill said.

  


"Nah, I think it's just the cooped-up-ness getting to his head," Clarice took a swig from her glass of champagne. Krystal didn't say anything, and just walked around the hanger, talking to whoever wanted to chat. Peppy had set up a sort of buffet table beside the Great Fox, and Falco was blaring out Mozart on a stereo. Krystal thought that was really strange.

  


The occupants of the hanger for the party were the StarFox team, a few friends, including Bill and a few of his crew, Clarice, and a few fans of Fox. The admirers were wondering where their idol was. Alkavin desperately wanted to be in the party, so Krystal let him take over the body of one of Fox's fans who drank too much. Somehow, Alkavin had managed complete control over the drunken cat, and he had a blast eating plate after plate of food after being stuck within a stick for nearly a hundred years without any normal sense. Krystal got him to get back inside the staff, and strapped the gold weapon to her back to prevent him from any more mind control.

  


Suddenly, Falco was staring at his watch, chanting a countdown. Everyone else joined in, except Krystal, who was completely confused. When the countdown got to zero, everybody started cheering, throwing conffetti into the air, and grabbed the nearest member of the opposite sex and frenched each other. Krystal backed away as a sheepdog puckered his lips for her.

  


"No, thank you," she said, rasing her hands in defense. Looking around, Krystal saw that the only people who were left out were Falco, Peppy, Slippy, Fox, and herself. The second latter caught her attention. Fox was obviously miserable missing the countdown, but he still had a bandage on his head, well enough.

  


"G'morning," he mumbled as Krystal jogged up to him.

  


"Uh, yeah, and a good day to you, too," Krystal mumbled back, looking at her sandals. There was an awkward silence between the two, tension balanced out by the loud cheering of Falco and the blaring of Auld Land Sang on his stereo. Fox's gaze swept over the hanger, and he caught Bill and Clarice making out in a corner. He gulped.

  


"If you have any objections..."

  


"It's kinda late for kissing..."

  


"And my breath probably stinks..."

"And my culture forbids me from fluid transfers unless requested from my to-be-wed..."

  


"Eh?"

  


"This is turning out to be an intelligent conversation," Krystal put her fist on her hips. Fox opened his mouth, but closed it again, and open again, and closed again, like a dying fish. Krystal giggled, "Hey, if you have something to say, just say it."

  


"Would you like to stay on the Great Fox for... Uh... Forever?" Fox asked shyly. It was then Krystal's turn to open and close her mouth like a dying carp.

  


_Princess, might I remind you that we have a certain evil gem to dispose of, and we should get that done right away. Since neither of us knows how to, it might take a long time to find the tutor for it, and then perform whatever ritual neccessary. It would be unwise to just stay with Fox. You've already wasted enough time just to stay for this party._

  


"I'm sorry, Fox," Krystal said slowly, "I have a few things to attend to. I'll catch up with you as soon as I'm done, okay?" Fox looked at the floor and nodded in disappointment. Krystal sighed and turned to leave. After four paces, Krystal stopped and turned around. Her eyes locked with Fox's, and she thought hard. She jogged up to Fox again.

  


"Yes?" Fox mumbled in an empty voice. Krystal smiled.

  


"Oh, to heck with the old taboos!" Krystal shouted as she tackled Fox over and stuck her tongue inside his mouth, ignoring any and all eyes that gawked at them.

  


_Oh, boy. This could take a while._

  


**

  


A/N: Epilogue, end. Story, end. Sequel? Eh, you guys should gimme some ideas. O_o The cheesiness is getting to my head...

  


Finished. Byesies, y'all. And thanks for the reviews. I don't think I will be writing anything for a while. This time the creativity block is mucho grande.


End file.
